Me Before You
by gracielately
Summary: Rachel Berry, a girl in a small town, becomes a caregiver for a recently paralyzed millionaire, Quinn Fabray. Together, they form an unlikely bond.
1. Chapter 1

Based on the book and movie of the same name. I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave a review if you did.

* * *

"Ugh, this is what we could be doing on a holiday. Not all the 'hiking up mountains' stuff you're planning," Allison giggled, dragging her fingernails up and down Quinn's back. Plush white blankets enveloped their tangled bare legs, while Quinn pressed her lips to the column of her girlfriend's neck.

Quinn lifted her head to look down at Allie and cocked an eyebrow. She smirked and dragged her left hand down to lightly prod at exposed ribs with her fingertips.

Allie gasped and squirmed underneath Quinn's body. "It tickles, it tickles!" She giggled, reaching down to pry lithe fingers from her skin.

Quinn couldn't help but smile at Allie's infectious laugh. She reached up to massage the brunette's breast, and her eyes twinkled when a small moan fell from Allie's lips.

"You want me to stop?" Quinn inquired as she felt her nipple harden beneath her fingertips.

Allie looked into the blonde's eyes and smiled contentedly. She felt her heart melt at the sight of her playful girlfriend and her unkempt hair. "No," she said softly, shaking her head. "But it's 6:15."

Quinn raised her eyebrows. "6:15?" She lightly tugged on a nipple and watched Allie's eyelids flutter.

"Mmhmm," the brunette moaned, her eyes now closed so that she could focus on the hand playing with her left breast.

Quinn watched Allie's chest heave and bit her lip. Allie's eyes lazily blinked open and a small smile graced Quinn's lips. "Oh, I've got to go." The blonde's husky voice dripped with lust.

Quinn pressed one last kiss to Allie's lips before sitting up and dragging herself out of bed. She grinned at the dopey post-orgasm look on Allie's face as she made her way to the bathroom. She walked over to the shower and turned the knob, watching as the light spray poured from the showerhead. She reached out to make sure the temperature was comfortable and walked over to the bathroom door.

Before she closed it, Quinn gripped the handle and looked at her girlfriend beautifully splayed out on pearly sheets, looking positively delicious. "I'll cook tonight," Quinn winked, before closing the door.

* * *

Quinn adjusted the hem of her navy blue dress one last time in the mirror. She looked herself up and down and nodded to herself when she decided her outfit was satisfactory. The blonde stepped out of the bathroom and stalked over to the bed on her three-inch black Kate Spade heels. She pressed a kiss to the lightly snoring brunette's forehead before grabbing her phone and exiting her apartment.

Quinn opened up her phone in the elevator on the way down and checked her notifications. She sighed when she saw she had three emails from her boss, and a text demanding to know why she wasn't at work fifteen minutes after she was expected to arrive.

The blonde looked up when the elevator dinged and opened up her umbrella on the way out of her apartment building. The heavy rain splattered against the pavement in front of her, splashing her heels. The blonde groaned and dialed Fred Lancaster's number in her phone. She jogged across the street as best she could in her shoes, trying to get out of the bad weather as soon as possible.

"Quinn," came a stern voice on the other side of the phone. "You're late. Where are you?"

Quinn tilted the umbrella towards the rainfall when the wind changed directions and tried to shout over the downpour. "Fred, I know I'm sorry. I got a late start this morning."

"We don't have time for late starts right now, Quinn. The biggest account of your career so far is hanging on you being on time and working hard." Quinn could practically see the vein sticking out of Fred's forehead as he chastised her.

She felt a man forcefully bump against her shoulder as she passed him on the crowded sidewalk and resisted the urge to say something to him while she was on the phone. Quinn shook her head and gripped her umbrella tighter, closing her eyes to calm herself down. "Yeah, listen, I'm on it," she assured her boss. "The West Coast will still be up, I'll call Carmichael and when I get into the building we'll close this before 9am."

"You better be right about this, Fabray."

Quinn made her way to the edge of the street and called for a taxi at the busy road. A small yellow vehicle pulled over on the other side of the street, and Quinn began to jog over to the stopped car. Before she could reply to Fred, before she could make her way to the taxi, and before she was safely across the street, Quinn heard a loud honk on her right side.

She looked over just in time to see a motorcycle heading towards her at full speed. The world froze as a small headlight light up Quinn's face in the overcast weather. The blonde didn't even have time to blink.

* * *

"Bye now!"

"Take care, John!" Rachel Berry called out as the shop bell chimed and an older gentleman in a tan trench coat made his way out the door.

Rachel dusted off her bright pink apron to match the bright pink walls of the bakery before turning to her next customer. Two middle-aged women peered over the glass case of various sweet confections and Rachel smiled at them in her bright yellow stockings and dark blue polka dot sweater.

"Um, how many calories in this one?" One of the women asked her.

Rachel slid a plate of cookies onto the lowest-level display rack in the glass case. "170 calories," she replied, giving her best customer service smile. "You did have that one yesterday."

"What about that one then?" The second lady asked, pointing to a golden cinnamon roll on the top rack.

Rachel leaned in slightly. "220," she said, giving them a knowing squint. "But it is less if you eat them standing up." She winked.

"Oh!" "Yeah," the women said simultaneously, smiling at each other before smiling at Rachel.

"Should we put them in a bag?" Rachel asked, suppressing a chuckle.

"Please," the woman on the left responded.

Rachel bagged the goodies and handed them to Frank, the owner of the bakery, allowing him to check the two women out at the register. She grabbed the pot of coffee and walked to various customers' tables in the shop, offering to fill up their mugs before clocking out. When everyone seemed satisfied, Rachel made her way to the back and untied her apron, hanging it in her little cubby next to the boxes of ingredients and piles of paperwork.

The brunette grabbed her purple peacoat and turned to walk out of the room, when she ran into Frank. He gave her a sad smile and handed her a sealed envelope. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Rachel took a look at the envelope and a small frown took over her face, causing her eyebrows to turn downwards. She looked back to Frank, who only lowered his eyes at her gaze. She opened her mouth to say something, but in a rare moment for Rachel Berry, she was speechless.

She opted for a silent, yet dramatic, turn and exit from the shop. Rachel hugged her coat tighter to her as she walked against the wind back to her home half a mile away. How was she supposed to tell her dads? This job was so important to her family. How were they going to support themselves now? She shivered at the upcoming uncomfortable family dinner this was going to cause.

The walk was too quick for the petite brunette, filled with worries and concerns for her family. Her father had already lost his job a month ago, meaning that their ability to pay for the house and food relied solely on the money that Leroy and Rachel brought in.

When Rachel pulled open the front door and hopped inside to get away from the cold, her wind-whipped cheeks were already numb. "Dad, daddy, I'm home!" She called out.

"In here!" She heard Hiram call from the kitchen.

Rachel hung up her coat and walked into a room filled with the smell of marinara sauce and the sound of Bon Jovi blaring through a set of speakers on the counter. She felt her heart sink as her dads looked so carefree, cooking dinner and dancing to the rock ballad.

"I have something to tell you guys…" She said softly, wringing her hands.

"Sorry?" "What was that?" Her dads yelled over the music.

"I have something to tell you guys!" Rachel tried yelling, to no avail. Her dads had barely turned their heads, too focused on what was happening in front of them.

Rachel groaned and stomped her foot. She absolutely hated being ignored. "I WAS LET GO!" She shouted over the loud guitar solo.

Both men's heads shot straight up and looked at Rachel, shock coating their faces. Leroy turned and pushed the pause button on his phone, laying a blanket of silence over the room.

"What did you say?" Hiram asked, looking straight into Rachel's eyes.

Rachel's voice grew small again as she looked at the floor and squirmed. "I lost my job. Frank let me go."

It took nearly half an hour to get Hiram to stop having a panic attack. Rachel knew her dramatics came from her daddy, but she still felt awful for the trouble she was causing her parents. In the end, Hiram settled for pacing back and forth in the kitchen, while Rachel and Leroy sat at the empty table, trying not to glance in his direction.

"A month's money? That's big of him, given that she's worked like a Trojan for him for the past six years," Hiram scoffed, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

Leroy crossed his fingers in front of himself and sighed. "He's closing down, love. He had no choice."

Rachel could only stare at the checkerboard pattern of the tablecloth as her dads argued.

"And what the hell is she going to do now?" Hiram yelled. "It's not like you can get any more hours at the bank."

"Rachel will get another job. She has a lot of potential." Rachel tried not to glare at her dads for talking like she wasn't there.

Hiram stopped his pacing and rested his back against the counter, crossing his arms. "There are no jobs, Leroy. I should know." Rachel buried her head in her hands, trying to stop the oncoming headache. Hiram noticed, and softened his tone. "Look, I'm just saying, we… we needed that money."

Leroy stood up and walked over to Rachel. He rubbed her back as he spoke. "Let's not panic, okay?" He smiled down at Rachel. "She'll find something. Won't you, sweetheart?"

Rachel looked up at her dads and gave them a sad smile.

* * *

"Well, what do you want to do? Retail? Catering?" Finn asked, as Rachel scanned the wanted ads for a new job. He was sitting so that his back was leaned up against the armrest of the couch, with Rachel between his legs on her laptop.

"I told you, Finn, I don't know what I want to do. I've been toasting teacakes since I was 14 years old. I'll go for anything at this point," Rachel said with exasperation.

Finn ran his hands through Rachel's long hair. "You don't want to do the chicken factory, though," he frowned. "And you refused to work at that hair place."

Rachel sighed. "I would give myself nightmares handling poor dead chickens, Finn. And I'm not cut out to be a beautician. Hot wax is not my friend." She could feel herself growing desperate, though, and it was only a matter of time before she settled for something she hated.

"What was that thing you said about selfish beggars or whatever?" Finn asked, opting to massage Rachel's shoulders as she grew more tightly wound.

"It's 'beggars can't be choosers, Finn."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should be more open. Give something a chance, maybe you'll like it." Finn picked up one of the many pages of ads that Rachel printed off, on top of just plainly searching the Internet. Rachel had color-coded the details of each ad before looking at them, and a certain blue salary caught Finn's eye. "What about this one? It pays really well. It's not far from your house! 'Care and companionship for a disabled man'."

"What kind of care?" Rachel asked, closing her laptop and taking the paper from Finn's hand. "'Needs someone to drive, feed, and assist.' It's a six-month, fixed term contract."

Finn's eyebrows scrunched together as he struggled to understand the details. "It's the fifth time they've tried to recruit, Rach. They're desperate," he piped up. "And there's nothing about needing skills, so it's perfect!"

Rachel awkwardly turned her head to face Finn and gave him an incredulous look. Finn's eyes immediately looked anywhere else and he tried to save himself. "I-I mean, because you won't need any experience or anything, n-not that you're not skilled…"

Rachel rolled her eyes at her boyfriend before turning back to the paper. "I guess I could at least apply…"

* * *

Rachel wrung her hands and tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she rang the doorbell to the biggest mansion she had ever seen in person. It looked to be three stories, and Rachel could only stare at the tall Greek columns holding up the roof's overhang. Once she had been buzzed in past the gate at the entrance of the driveway, she was pretty sure her jaw never left the floor.

The tall mahogany door opened to reveal a slender blonde woman with a white blouse, black pencil skirt, and hair pinned up neatly in a tight bun. "You must be Rachel Berry," the woman spoke, eyeing Rachel pensively.

Rachel nodded. "I- Yes."

"I'm Judy Fabray. Do come in." It came out more like a command than an offer, and Rachel could only nod.

The brunette's nerves were radiating off of her as she followed Judy Fabray through what seemed to be a common area, up a marble staircase, and through the first door on the right. She could only gape at glass chandeliers and paintings that must have been worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.

The intimidating blonde woman took a seat on a modern white chaise and gestured at the sofa across from her in the minimalist room. "Please, sit down."

"Oh, okay," Rachel responded as she sat down and smoothed out her tight gray skirt.

Mrs. Fabray cut right to the chase. "Do you have any experience in caregiving?"

Rachel slid her purse off her shoulder and set it down right next to her on the sofa. "Um, I've never done it," she supplied. "But I'm sure I could learn." Her voice was eager, as she gave her mega-watt smile.

Mrs. Fabray had a face like steel, void of emotion. "Do you have any experience with quadriplegia?"

Rachel's smile faltered only slightly. "Well, no."

Judy Fabray sat up straighter and looked right into Rachel's eyes as she spoke. Rachel could only sit, wide-eyed, under the blonde woman's overpowering gaze. "We are talking about complete loss of the legs, and very limited use of the arms. Would that bother you?"

 _Not as much as it would bother him, obviously,_ Rachel thought to herself.

Judy Fabray's eyes widened considerably as she looked at the young girl in front of her and Rachel felt her skin turn cold immediately. She said that out loud.

"Sorry! No, I didn't… No, um…" Rachel's fingers erratically tapped against her knees, and her legs squirmed at the utter idiocy that fell from her mouth as she tried to save herself.

A ripping sound made its way to Rachel's ears and her eyes widened even further. She felt herself stop breathing as her skirt loosened. She chanced a glance at the side of her right leg and her jaw immediately dropped when she saw a tear right at the seam of her skirt about halfway up. She looked to the ceiling and did everything she could to keep herself from passing out.

"Are you alright?" Mrs. Fabray asked, watching Rachel fall apart in front of her.

"Um, I'm… I'm just a little hot…" Rachel said, both hands pressed to the side of her thigh. "Do you mind if I take off my jacket?" Her pleading eyes met cold hazel ones.

Mrs. Fabray didn't respond. The older woman only watched as Rachel fumbled with her red cardigan and slid it off her shoulders. She wrapped it around her waist and tied the arms, attempting to hide the tear. She was left in only a white button down blouse.

Judy Fabray chose to ignore the fidgeting brunette in front of her and continued the interview. "Your former employer says you 'are a warm, chatty, and life-enhancing presence with a lot of potential.'"

Rachel spoke up a little too enthusiastically. "Yes, I paid him." She let out a forceful laugh, trying to ease the tension with a joke.

Mrs. Fabray continued to stare, her face still unreadable. "So, what exactly do you want to do with your life?"

"Sorry?"

"Do you have aspirations, or dreams, or a goal you want to achieve?"

"Well-"

"Miss Berry, why should I employ you, instead of, say, the previous candidate?"

"Um-"

"Really? You can't think of a single reason why I should employ you?"

Rachel tried to keep up with the whirlwind of words being thrown in her direction, but it was hard with how absolutely nervous she was. She really needed this job. "Well, no. I mean, yes, Mrs. Fabray, I'm… I'm a fast-learner," Rachel, said, grasping at her composure under the woman's intimidating glare. "And I'm never sick. I'm always punctual, I am a hard worker, and I only live a mile away. I'm stronger than I look, a-and I make amazing cookies, you know, there really isn't much that can't be solved by a good batch of cookies. Not that I'm saying your husband's quadriplegia can be solved by-"

"My husband?" Judy Fabray's voice broke through Rachel's rambling. The brunette froze and looked at the newly tense woman in front of her. "It's my daughter."

"Your daughter?" Rachel's voice came out nearly breathless.

"Quinn was injured in a road accident two years ago. She lost all mobility in her legs and her left arm."

"Oh, I'm sorry," pure sympathy could be seen in Rachel's eyes. "I didn't know…"

"So…" Mrs. Fabray spoke up, continuing to stare directly into Rachel's eyes, making her feel like the intimidating woman could see straight into her soul. "Would you like the job?"

Rachel's lips parted slightly, and she knew she looked like a deer in headlights. Without hesitation, she spoke. "Yes."

"Can you start immediately?"

"Yes." Rachel said it with more conviction this time.

"Good," Mrs. Fabray acknowledged, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. "Then let's go and meet Quinn."

"Right. Yes," Rachel nodded enthusiastically, following suit and standing up.

Judy led Rachel back out of the room and into the hallway. "The hours are 8:00 to 5:00, Monday through Saturday," she explained, walking back down the marble steps. "If, for whatever reason you're running late or you need to leave early, please call and let me know."

Rachel nodded fervently to everything the taller woman said, nervously fidgeting with her torn skirt, trying to cover the rip with the sleeve of the sweater tied around her waist.

"I must stress that Quinn should not be left alone for longer than fifteen minutes," Judy told Rachel, not looking back once as she took Rachel through a long corridor.

Once they reached the end of the hall, she opened the door and turned to Rachel. "And, um, you might want to wear something less revealing."

Rachel's face turned bright red and she looked down at her poorly concealed, ruined skirt. "Yes, of course."

Mrs. Fabray nodded, her voice suddenly low as they walked into the next room. "This is the annex. It used to be the riding stables, before we had it adapted for Quinn."

Rachel looked around at a beautifully wooded room with tall ceilings and a kitchen with marble counters and polished floors. Circular lamps hung from the ceiling above the kitchen island. Across the room were a few white couches, but not much occupied the floor space. Glass walls covered most of the room, except for a solid white wall with sliding metal doors adjacent to the kitchen.

"I'll give you a set of car keys, and put you on the insurance. Santana will show you how to use the ramp," Judy continued to explain. "Tea and coffee are in the cupboards, you are welcome to help yourself. And there is always food in the fridge."

Judy paused in the middle of the room before looking towards the metal doors. You and Quinn can work out your level of interaction amongst yourselves. Obviously, I would hope that you could get along. It would be nice if she could think of you as a friend, rather than a paid professional."

Rachel gave her a confused look. Why wouldn't they get along? She shook it off and smiled. It wouldn't be a problem. She was Rachel Berry after all.

"Do you have any questions?" Judy folded her hands in front of herself, facing Rachel.

"No," Rachel breathed out, planning to commit everything to memory.

"Then let's introduce you to Quinn. She should be dressed by now."

Judy Fabray paused one more time with her hand on the metal handle and looked Rachel in the eye again. "She has good days and bad days."

Rachel stood up a little straighter and held eye contact with the woman in front of her. "I won't let you down, Mrs. Fabray."

"Good."

Judy knocked on the tall door, and Rachel could hear the faint sound of music playing on the other side. "I have someone to meet you," she called out to whoever was in the room.

"Yeah, she's decent, Judy," a raspy voice yelled from behind the door.

Mrs. Fabray slid the large door open and stepped inside the room. Rachel turned on her famous million-dollar smile as she scanned the room. Judy turned off the loud metal music playing on the stereo and the room was engulfed in silence.

Cold hazel eyes met innocent brown ones and Rachel froze. Her smile never faltered, but she was captivated by the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on. She must have been in her 20's and Rachel shifted her weight under the other woman's gaze. She was sitting in a tall leather wheelchair, wearing a black long sleeve shirt and black yoga pants. Blonde curls rested over a porcelain collarbone, and Rachel found herself tracing the curve of the woman's cheekbone with her eyes.

The awkward silence made a nurse with raven hair dressed in dark purple scrubs clear her throat and roll her eyes. Rachel was broken out of her reverie and she locked her fingers in front of her.

"Hi, I'm Rachel!" She announced in the doorway.

Quinn's demeanor didn't change in the slightest. Her steely gaze remained on Rachel as she spoke. "Hello, Rachel Berry. I'm Quinn Fabray." Her body stayed completely still, save for the fingers of her right hand tapping languidly against the arm rest of the chair.

Rachel dropped her smile and bit the inside of her cheek. She had to fight against wanting to know how Quinn knew her last name. Has she seen her resume?

"You appear to have a problem with your skirt," Quinn said, nonchalantly. Rachel could tell she perfected the uncomfortably icy demeanor from her mother. The nurse next to Quinn only snickered at the comment.

Rachel's face was flushed, as she tried to cover the tear in her skirt with her hands.

"That's cold, Quinn," the nurse laughed.

Judy rolled her eyes. "Miss Berry, this is Quinn's nurse, Santana. She'll stop by several times throughout the day to check up on Quinn, help move her muscles, et cetera."

"It's a pleasure to meet you!" Rachel grinned, holding out her hand.

"I'm sure it is," Santana looked Rachel up and down, ignoring the hand held out to her. Quinn smirked at the interaction.

Rachel awkwardly cleared her throat and dropped her hand to her side.

"Right, well, I'll leave you to it," Judy spoke up, moving to leave the room. "Miss Berry, Santana will talk you through Quinn's routines and equipment."

Quinn rolled her eyes and looked to her left. "You don't have to talk across me mother. My brain isn't paralyzed." Her gaze shifted to Rachel and an eyebrow rose as she said the word: "Yet."

Rachel could only stare with her mouth slightly ajar. She made eye contact with Judy, who could only quirk her lip up in sympathy before walking out of the room. Rachel's eyes pleaded with her, but she didn't turn back.

Rachel looked back to Quinn. The blonde continued to stare right into Rachel's eyes, daring her to make a move or comment, or anything really. The brunette did everything in her power not to cower under her gaze. She watched Quinn's jaw tighten, as she looked her up and down, searching for something that Rachel couldn't identify.

"Well, I'm Rachel Berry," Rachel said, placing her hands on her hips.

Quinn's eyebrow rose again at the statement and her eyes narrowed. "Yes, we've established this."

Rachel looked to Santana for help, but the nurse only matched Quinn's cold gaze.

"Um, shall I make us all some coffee?" Rachel asked, trying to find a way to excuse herself.

Santana laughed out loud and put her hand on Quinn's shoulder. Rachel watched the blonde smile at this, but it wasn't warm and inviting like a smile should be. Rachel felt her stomach drop at the sight of the cruel eyes above the wry smile. Quinn thought that the petite brunette's days were numbered, and Rachel knew it.

* * *

"Okay, this pretty much tells you everything you need to know," Santana told Rachel, shoving a large blue binder into Rachel's chest. Rachel let out a small cough at the force. "I do most of the heavy lifting, but there's a timetable in there, so you can see what she has to take and when."

Rachel froze. "I have to handle medicine?" She asked, incredulously.

Santana rolled her eyes and made her way to the cupboard. She flashed Rachel an annoyed look before throwing the door open. "Blood pressure meds, to raise it in the morning when she gets up," she told Rachel, pointing to a blue bottle. She shifted her finger to an orange bottle next to it. "Anti-spasm tablets. She needs to take them four times a day to control muscular spasms." She pointed out another orange bottle on the other side of the blue one. "Pills for nerve pain."

Santana snatched the last bottle from the shelf and handed it to Rachel. "If she asks, you can give her pain killers. Just don't give her sleeping pills," she looked at Rachel's meek demeanor. "If you can, Smurf."

Rachel rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her hip. "Why not sleeping pills?"

Santana took the bottle from Rachel's hand before placing it back in the cupboard and closing it. "They tend to make her a bitch." Santana paused and rocked her head back and forth. "Well, more of a bitch than she is now."

Rachel looked away at this and tried to ignore her insecurity. "It's a lot to remember," she said, tapping the blue binder in her hands.

Santana rolled her eyes once more and jabbed a finger at the binder. "It's all written down, Berry. Just follow the instructions in the binder. Are you always this dense?"

Rachel scoffed. "I- No! I mean, I'm not dense. It's my first day on the job. I've never been a caregiver before," Rachel defended herself.

Santana gave Rachel a once-over before sighing and walking past Rachel. "She knows what's what, even if she denies it." She grabbed her purse from the kitchen island. "And you've got my number. Most of my other patients are nearby, so I'm never far away. And Quinn is my best friend, so I'll be here immediately if something goes wrong."

Rachel fiddled with her fingers. She felt her skin grow hot as she struggled with what she wanted to ask Santana. "What if she needs to, uh…" She trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper.

Santana gave Rachel a confused look, before nodding when she realized what Rachel meant. She slung her purse over her shoulder. "Don't worry, Smurf. You're not here for any of the physical stuff."

"Would you please stop calling me that, Santana," Rachel said, stomping her foot lightly.

Santana narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms at the movement. This was too much for her pay grade.

Rachel sighed and leaned against the counter. "What am I here for?" She inquired.

Santana shrugged. "To cheer her up, I guess."

Rachel couldn't stop the confusion from being etched into her features, but nodded anyway.

Santana checked the time on her phone, before spinning on her heels. "I'll see you in a bit, Berry." She gave one last glance before tossing over her shoulder, "Don't let her get the best of you."

And with that, the nurse opened a tall glass door and walked outside.

Rachel found herself engulfed in silence, and let out a breath for what felt like the first time since she entered the house. She gently set the binder on the kitchen counter before taking in the room once more. She tried not to be intimidated by steel beams holding up the roof of what once used to be the stables. She couldn't help but be enchanted by the incredible interior design of the room, though, her eyes scanning the panoramic view of the trees and rolling green hills outside.

She looked to the white wall with the metal doors ajar and bit her lip. What was she to do now? She couldn't help but stare at Quinn's golden hair capturing the sunlight and glowing with it. Her back was to Rachel, but somehow Rachel could see the cold and calculating expression plastered across her face.

Rachel crumpled her hands into fists to steel herself before walking over and knocking on the open door.

"Hello." Rachel nervously shifted her weight.

She watched Quinn stretch her neck from once side and to the other. "Hello," came the reply.

"So I thought we could go out this afternoon," Rachel suggested, leaning her hip against the doorway.

Quinn didn't look at her. "Where do you have in mind?"

Rachel smiled and walked closer to the blonde, placing one hand on her hip and the other against her chest. "Well, I was told you have a car that is adapted for wheelchair use."

"And you thought a drive would be good for me." It was spoken as a statement, and Rachel felt herself shrink a little bit. She watched Quinn's lithe fingers tap the armrest again and swallowed. "A breath of fresh air." The words were wry out of Quinn's mouth.

"What do you usually do?" Rachel asked quietly.

Quinn chuckled mirthlessly. "I don't do anything, Berry. I sit. I just about exist."

From two feet back and to the right, Rachel could see Quinn's jaw tighten, and she watched the column of her neck twitch as she swallowed.

"Okay…" Rachel felt uneasy. "Well, I could get you your computer."

"Have you found a good quad support group I could join?" Quinn pressed a button, and the wheelchair turned to face Rachel. "Quads 'R' Us?" Quinn's tone was condescending and Rachel grabbed her left arm as Quinn glared at her. "The Tin Wheels Club?"

Rachel's chest tightened but she persisted, letting go of her arm and taking a step closer to Quinn. "Or perhaps we could get to know each other a bit," she said, a tinge of desperation coating her tone. "Because then _you_ can tell me what it is that you _do_ like to do."

Quinn's eyebrow arched at Rachel's plea. Her fingers stopped tapping against the chair and her lips pursed at the girl in front of her. "Here's what I know about you, Rachel Berry. My mother says you're chatty," Quinn began, her jaw twitching at the word "chatty".

Rachel rocked her head back and forth at the statement before nodding. It wasn't untrue. She still clung to the smile on her own lips, though, refusing to let it go.

"Can we strike a deal? Under which you are very un-chatty around me?" Quinn's words were almost slow as she enunciated, making sure Rachel heard every syllable.

Rachel's smile slowly dampened, until her lips were now closed and her right hand was gripping her left shoulder. She looked into Quinn's eyes for any sense of gentleness or humanity, and found none.

"Okay." Rachel looked down to the floor. "W-well, I'll just be in the kitchen… if you need anything."

Quinn nodded. "Lovely."

Rachel slowly stepped away as Quinn turned her wheelchair to face away from Rachel and toward the window. The brunette gripped the metal handle of the sliding door once she was outside of the room and pulled it shut.

She walked a few steps away and pressed her back to the long white wall. Her hands folded against her stomach and she took a deep breath. Fear and nervousness tugged at her insides, and she stared off into the distance outside. She really needed this job.

And she was going to lose it as quickly as she got it.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for your lovely reviews, follows and favorites. They truly mean a lot. I'm super grateful for any and all feedback, and it means the world to me that people find this story enjoyable, and worth the read. Your reviews are what inspire me to continue.

To the guest that was unhappy that Quinn is the one paralyzed and not Rachel: I'm sorry? :P I personally made it that way because I felt that the character that Quinn is based off of best aligned with her personality over Rachel's or anyone else. It's hard to imagine a cold and calculating Rachel Berry, and a nervous Quinn Fabray trying to win her friendship.

* * *

Rachel found herself sitting at the kitchen island on her second day, reading through the blue binder, trying to commit everything to memory. The big metal sliding door was sealed shut, and the only time she had seen Quinn that day was to hand Quinn her meds. The blonde hadn't said a word to her. She tried not to take it personally.

Rachel's head shot up at the sound of the front glass door opening, and she watched as a hurried Santana slid off her jacket. "How is she this morning?"

"Hello, Santana," Rachel said, folding her hands in front of her.

"Has she impersonated Stephen Hawking yet, or just stuck with My Left Foot?" Santana asked hanging up her coat and bag.

Rachel's eyebrows scrunched together at this idea of a playful Quinn Fabray. It seemed almost impossible to imagine the woman doing anything lighthearted or joking in any way.

"She's been fine," Rachel offered. And she had. That was all Quinn Fabray had been. Just fine. It was the only way she could describe somebody who hadn't said a word to her. At least she wasn't the ice queen Rachel had seen yesterday.

"Alright, Berry," Santana said, reaching into the cabinet for something. She pulled out a syringe and walked to the fridge. "You can take your lunch now. Me and Quinn have a few things to take care of at this time of day." She pulled a liquid vial from the fridge.

"Oh, is there anything I can help with?" Rachel asked, getting up from the barstool and smiling.

Santana flashed her a look that wiped the smile right off of Rachel's face. "Know when to excuse yourself, Berry."

Rachel bit her cheek to keep from saying anything. As much as she wanted to point out how rude she was, Rachel knew Santana was going to be doing things for Quinn that were way out of her depth, and she didn't want to get in the way of the blonde's health.

"I'll be back in half an hour," Rachel told Santana, walking over to the coat rack.

"Can't wait." Sarcasm was laced throughout Santana's words, and she didn't bother to turn and look at Rachel.

The brunette watched Santana walk over to Quinn's room and slide the door open. She got a flash of Quinn's ponytail before the nurse slid the door shut, leaving Rachel alone. Rachel sighed and grabbed her coat and bag, walking out the front door of the annex.

It was a chilly fall day, and despite having her coat and hat, Rachel could only shiver to stave off the cold. She found a bench in the large garden outside, next to a rosebush that was preparing for winter. She pulled out her lunch, a kale salad with falafel on the side.

Before she could take her first bite, Rachel's phone dinged in her purse. She pulled it out and checked her texts.

 _Still a disaster?_ Her friend Kurt's text came through. She had told him the night before over the phone about everything that had happened – the caregiving job, the interview, the evil glare of one Quinn Fabray. He was gushing over the fact that Rachel was caring for _Quinn Fabray,_ small town Lima royalty. Rachel could only be irritated with her friend during the conversation, who was ignoring her struggle in lieu of hearing about what the mansion looked from the inside, and if she had seen any cute men working there. Rachel noticed there were other staff in the large 80,000 square foot mansion, but rarely saw them, because no one else worked in the annex besides Santana.

 _Yep._ Rachel sent back to him. She took a bite of her salad and frowned. She watched the leaves fall from the trees in the distance, alone. She couldn't help the tight feeling in her chest. She was actually looking forward to Santana coming back for lunch, she was so lonely.

When Rachel finished her food, she wandered her way back towards the house. Pulling the glass door to the annex open, Rachel could hear noises coming from Quinn's room. She quickly took off her purse and jacket and hung them up before walking over to Quinn's doorway.

The blonde was facing the wall in her room, so Rachel could see the side of her, and the petite girl gasped. She watched as Quinn's body was wracked with spasms, her chest arching from the chair. Her eyes were rolled in the back of her head and short moans were falling from her lips. Rachel clutched her chest as Santana scrambled to pour a few pills from a medicine bottle.

Rachel couldn't breathe at the uncomfortable sight of Quinn's body losing control. Her heart felt like it had stopped and she could only feel bad for the blonde suffering in front of her.

Santana did her best to grip Quinn's head as it shook violently beneath her hand, and tilted it back. Rachel winced as the nurse forced Quinn's mouth open, shoved the pills past her lips, and then held her jaw shut.

"C-couldn't she choke?" Rachel piped up, her lungs feeling like lead.

Santana flinched slightly at Rachel's voice over the commotion, but didn't look up. She rubbed Quinn's throat with two fingers. "No, midget." She waved her off with her hand. "Now's not the time."

"I… is there anything that I can do to help?" Rachel asked, taking a step closer.

Santana looked at Rachel with frantic eyes and the smaller brunette took a step back. "Go home, Berry. There's nothing you can do here."

Rachel hesitated, wondering if Judy Fabray would think it was acceptable for her to leave early.

"Leave. Now. Quinn doesn't want you here."

Rachel's breath caught in her throat, but she did as she was told. She grabbed her coat and purse once more, taking one last look at the blonde across the room. A feeling she couldn't identify welled in her throat as the blonde helplessly succumbed to her seizure. Rachel turned and quietly left the annex.

* * *

Every day for the next few weeks, Rachel and Quinn found themselves just going through the motions. Rachel would give her medicine in the morning, afternoon, and evening before she left. Quinn was rarely hungry, but most of the time, when she was, Rachel would have to feed her. Quinn could move her right arm, but some days it was painful, or too weak for her to feed herself.

Rachel tried not to feel sorry for Quinn, she really did, but she could only imagine how Quinn's ego was taking a hit every time she lifted the spoon or fork to her mouth. She could understand why, under those circumstances, one would rarely want to eat.

The brunette had also learned early on that Quinn had small mobility in her left fingers, as well. She couldn't move the arm in the same way that she could move her right, but a small touch screen was connected to the left arm rest of Quinn's wheelchair, and Rachel could see her using it from time to time. She assumed that she was able to text and use the device like a smart phone.

Rachel came in every morning with a "good morning!" just as Santana would leave. Every time, Quinn would only glance at her before turning her attention back to the window and the world outside. It was not long before Rachel realized the sliding door to Quinn's room was automatic, as well, and Quinn could open and close it whenever she pleased. She came to this realization the first time Quinn closed the door in her face when she tried to greet her in the morning.

It seemed like every day Santana would tell Rachel that "today's not a great day for her." Yet, Rachel persisted, offering Quinn tea, coffee, or cookies periodically, which would all be rejected with silence. She tried to get the blonde to go outside, to go out to eat, to do something with her as often as she could, but was never dignified with a response. It seemed that Quinn had perfected her own language of glares and raised eyebrows.

Rachel had even tried to bring in bright flowers she had picked from the field across from her house one morning. The minute Quinn heard the door slide open, she looked over to see Rachel holding a bouquet of sunflowers and wild lilies, and could only close her eyes and shake her head. Rachel threw the flowers away in the bin and resorted to feeling humiliated for the rest of the day.

A month after Rachel had first started, she found herself dragging her feet as she hung up her coat. She didn't realize how much this job would kill her morale. She fixed her hair and sighed. This is what Quinn wanted, wasn't it? For Rachel to lose her "chattiness"? Well, she got it. Rachel's cheery personality was officially ruined the second she stepped foot into the annex every morning.

Rachel walked to the cupboard next to the fridge and pulled out the blue bottle containing the blood pressure pills. She poured a glass of water before walking to Quinn's room. She pulled open the metal door and stepped inside. Rachel knew she had already missed Santana, because the blonde was out of bed and in casual day clothes, as opposed to her pajamas.

"Good morning, Quinn," Rachel said for the first time without smiling. Quinn noticed this and quirked an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

Rachel reached up to slip two small white pills into Quinn's mouth, but before she could do so, Quinn reached up with her right arm and took the pills from Rachel's hand. This was another first for Rachel. As long as she had known Quinn, she had only seen her feeding herself once, just as she had walked in one morning, and she could see Quinn wince in pain every time she lifted her arm. But Quinn had never tried to take her medicine on her own during Rachel's time at the mansion.

The blonde slipped the pills in her mouth, and Rachel lifted the glass of water to Quinn's lips. The blonde didn't bother taking the cup herself this time, but complied with Rachel and took a sip of water.

When she could tell that Quinn was done, Rachel pulled the cup away and gripped it in her hands. She hesitated for a moment before asking, "would you like to eat breakfast, now?"

Quinn gave Rachel a calculating look before sitting up straight. "Sure, Berry," she acquiesced.

Rachel flashed a small smile before making her way to the kitchen. She could hear Quinn's motorized chair following behind her. "What would you like this morning?" Rachel asked her.

Quinn continued to stare at Rachel, her face unreadable. Rachel felt uncomfortable beneath her gaze. "Cereal is fine."

Rachel nodded and reached for the Rice Krispies in the top shelf of the pantry. The reach was a little too tall for her, and she found herself on her tippy toes, grasping as best she could at the base of the box. She heard a stifled chuckle behind her and turned to face the blonde after she had grabbed the cereal.

Rachel scoffed. "Can I help you?"

Quinn let a small breath out of her nose. A sarcastic smile spread across her face. "I'm fine, thank you."

Rachel huffed at Quinn's behavior. "My height is not funny, Quinn. You shouldn't laugh at someone getting your breakfast ready." She grabbed a bowl and milk from the fridge, and began pouring the cereal.

"You're a bit insufferable," Quinn quipped, tapping her fingers against the armrest.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "That means little coming from someone as infuriating as you, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn's eyebrows rose at Rachel's retort. Rachel must have been seeing things, because she was convinced that there was a ghost of a smile on Quinn's lips.

The brunette lifted the bowl from the counter and walked over to Quinn. She paused for a moment, to see if Quinn would try to reach for the bowl and feed herself. When the blonde didn't make a move, Rachel brought the spoon to Quinn's mouth. The blonde took a bite and Rachel was careful to pull out the split second she was ready, to avoid holding the spoon in her mouth for an awkward length of time. Rachel scooped up some more cereal and held the spoon while she waited a moment for Quinn to finish the last bite.

After the blonde swallowed, she licked her lips. Rachel could feel her heart skip a beat when Quinn dragged her tongue across her pink lips. All she could do was stare. Quinn really was pretty. Watching Quinn's mouth, Rachel didn't notice a pair of hazel eyes observing her closely.

Both women jumped when Rachel accidentally spilled her spoonful of cereal in Quinn's lap, onto her tight black pants. Rachel's eyes grew wide and she gasped at the mistake. Quinn only looked up to the ceiling, clearly annoyed with the incident.

"I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," Rachel sputtered, setting the bowl and spoon on the counter before running to grab the dishcloth hanging above the oven.

"Clearly." Quinn's tone was condescending.

Rachel rushed over and pressed the rag to Quinn's lap. "I really didn't mean to do it!"

"Berry…"

Rachel didn't notice Quinn speak up over her own voice. "P-please don't be mad, it'll dry quickly." She scooped up bits of cereal and placed them on the counter.

"Berry."

Rachel began furiously rubbing at Quinn's lap to dry the stain. "I'm so so sorry, Quinn, it'll never happen again, I-"

"Rachel, STOP."

Rachel froze. She immediately removed the cloth from Quinn and held it in her grip.

Quinn's eyes were closed, as it seemed she was trying to control her temper. When she opened them, they seemed colder than before. Rachel felt her heart sink when the blonde's gaze was just as searing as the first day they met. She didn't realize that Quinn had been growing softer, ever so slightly, as the days had gone by.

Quinn pressed a button and the wheelchair did a 180 turn before heading in the direction of her room. Rachel took a few steps to follow, but once the wheelchair was past the big metal doors, they slid shut.

Rachel hung her head.

* * *

When Rachel returned from her lunch break, the annex was empty. Quinn's door was wide open, but the blonde was absent. So was Santana. Rachel wasn't sure what to do at this point, because in half an hour, she was going to have to give Quinn her medicine.

Rachel felt curiosity creeping up on her. She double-checked to make sure no one was around, before letting her interest get the best of her. The brunette slowly stepped into Quinn's room and looked around. All that occupied it was a large wardrobe next to a queen-sized bed with white sheets, and a dresser with several picture frames resting above.

Rachel walked over to the dresser and scanned each of the pictures. She smiled lightly when she saw a picture of Quinn lying in the grass with Judy Fabray, smiles plastered on both of their faces, unaware that they were being photographed. She couldn't believe that either of the emotionless women could seem so carefree – it was foreign to Rachel.

Her eyes shifted to the next frame surrounding a picture of a brunette around her age, looking into the camera and smiling, with her head pressed against a pillow and a sheet covering her shoulders. Rachel's eyebrows knit together as she traced the features of the young woman. The setting was so intimate, she wondered if Quinn knew her in this way, naked under sheets, grinning lazily. Rachel hadn't seen the girl around in all her time at the mansion. A hollow feeling stirred in the pit of Rachel's stomach.

The next picture was of Quinn, the girl from the previous picture, and a guy with a Mohawk all dressed in ski gear, with a tall blue mountain in the background. Once again, Quinn's white teeth were showing, and Rachel found herself melting slightly at the image. The brunette that Quinn was clearly dating had her arms wrapped around the blonde's arm, while the mohawked boy had his arm slung over Quinn's shoulder. The blonde's cheeks were red from the cold, but she couldn't look happier.

"Val d'Isere." A voice spoke from behind her.

Rachel flinched and turned to face Quinn, who had stopped in the doorway, eyeing Rachel with a look that, although as bitter and unkind as always, was now a little solemn.

"Good snow that year," Quinn's voice was emotionless.

Rachel couldn't pull her eyes away from the blonde. "Sorry. I was… I was…"

Quinn's face grew bored and her fingers gripped the right armrest. "You were just looking at my pictures, thinking how awful it must be to have lived like that and ended up like this." Quinn's head turned away. "The rest are in the drawer if you'd like to snoop around further."

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but the blonde's wheelchair spun around and moved away from the room. Rachel quietly walked out.

* * *

"Every time I speak, she looks at me like I'm incompetent, a-and annoying," Rachel complained.

Rachel and Kurt were lying on their backs on her bed, staring at Rachel's star string lights hanging from the ceiling. It had been two days since the cereal and picture incident, and Rachel was walking on eggshells every day since then. She found comfort in being able to come home after a long day and be with her boyfriend or best friend. Finn was working at the gym tonight, though. He had taken on a few more clients as a physical weight trainer.

"To be fair, you are pretty annoying," Kurt pointed out. Rachel lightly slapped his shoulder. The boy chuckled and shrugged. "Maybe she's like that with everyone, until she knows whether they're going to stick around. I mean, it's only been a month."

"It feels like a lifetime," Rachel groaned.

"Well, you can't quit, Rachel, you need the money." Kurt gripped Rachel's hand and held it to his chest.

"Yeah? Watch me." Rachel pouted.

"Come on, you have to hang in there. Rachel Barbra Berry doesn't quit. You just need to melt the ice somehow."

Rachel groaned once more and buried her face in Kurt's shoulder.

* * *

Rachel entered the mansion from the front entrance the next morning, and ran into Judy Fabray on her way to the annex. The blonde woman was leaning against a decorative table and staring out the window.

Without turning her head, she spoke to the tiny brunette. "Rachel, some visitors are on their way. Friends of Quinn's." Judy turned and pressed her fingertips to the table. "It's unexpected. You might need to-"

"Oh, I'll make some tea, or coffee," the brunette offered. Judy looked at her, and Rachel felt compelled to speak up once more. "And I'll make myself scarce."

"Yes, that would be good," Judy replied, before facing away from Rachel again. "I think I'll… I think I'll leave them to it."

Rachel scanned the stoic woman's face, before nodding and walking to the annex.

When Rachel opened the door, she heard voices filling the room. For fear of making things awkward, she hid in the hallway, trying to make her presence unknown.

"So how's the physio and stuff?" She heard a slick male voice ask. "Any improvements?"

"No." She heard Quinn's voice speak out with an extra layer of ice to it.

Rachel took a few steps closer and peered into the room. She caught sight of the mohawked boy from the photo with his head now shaved, and wearing a black leather jacket and a pair of jeans. Next to him, the naked brunette from the photos was also present, with a cream-colored cashmere sweater and hair curled at the ends. Quinn was sitting across from them, in a black sweater and dark blue pants, her hair, once again, up in a ponytail. Between them sat the coffee table, with tea resting on top of it.

"Well, you look great," the dark-haired guy said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah," the brunette next to him nodded.

Quinn quirked an eyebrow, her lips upturned in a wry smile. "Thank you, Puckerman. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

The woman across from Quinn spoke up and began rambling. "Sorry it's been so long. I've been so busy – they've been really working me hard, even on weekends."

"Yeah, and things are crazy at the office, too. New guy from New York. Bains, you ever heard of him?" The man presumed to be Puckerman asked Quinn.

Quinn looked up. "No."

"Fearsome. Total monster. Most days it feels like I can't even leave my chair," he chuckled and the woman next to him giggled.

Quinn's eyebrow arched, but she didn't respond.

Puckerman cleared his throat, and the smile fell from both of their faces.

"Are you going to say anything, ahem, about the announcement?" The brunette asked.

A fake smile spread across Quinn's face. "Congratulations. To the both of you."

"Neither of us meant for this to happen, Quinn," the woman took a step closer to the blonde. "We were just friends for ages. And, truth be told, Puck was so supportive after your accident."

"Big of him," Quinn deadpanned.

"Oh, Quinn, please… I-"

Puck spoke up, his face blank. "We should probably go."

They both began walking towards Rachel, and she tried to hide further back in the hallway. Puck turned to talk to Quinn, who was facing away from him. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I really am. We both are. And I- uh, we, really hope things improve for you."

Quinn's former lover gave one last look before following Puck towards the door to the mansion. Puck paused for a moment when he saw Rachel, but decided to ignore her and walk out the door.

The brunette caught sight of Rachel and sighed. Her eyes fell to the floor, and her voice was barely above a whisper. "You know, I tried for months. She just pushed me away. She didn't want me here." She ran her fingers through her hair. "You can only help someone who actually wants to be helped."

And with that, she walked out of the room on tall black heels and closed the door behind Rachel.

Rachel stepped out of the hallway and into the open space. She hung her coat on the hook and stepped towards Quinn's room, where the blonde was facing away from her.

"I was wondering, if you wanted me to-"

A loud crash interrupted Rachel's sentence and she hurriedly walked over to the room, terrified that Quinn had hurt herself. When she looked inside, she saw two shattered picture frames, lying on the floor. Rachel didn't have to look at the photographs to know which two pictures they were.

Rachel went into a full-on panic, holding a hand out to stop Quinn. "Don't move until I clean that up. I have no idea what I'd do if you popped a tire."

The blonde looked at Rachel, her chest heaving, before turning her head away. Even though she tried to hide it, Rachel could see the tear fall from Quinn's eye before she could stop it. The brunette swallowed, her stomach twisting in knots at the sight of Quinn like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find anything to say that could possibly help Quinn in this moment. Rachel turned on her heels to grab a broom, leaving the heartbroken blonde to stare out the window.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you once again for your reviews, follows, and favorites. I'm glad you guys are enjoying yourselves. If you leave a review on this chapter, I might be motivated to update a little sooner than I have this time ;)

Also, I didn't go into great detail about the movie because I didn't want to spoil it or put too much of my opinion/feelings about the movie into the story. It's definitely worth watching, if you don't mind feeling a little hollow afterwards.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think, and if you have anything specific you would like to see in the story.

* * *

"It was awful! Her girlfriend and her best friend. Engaged!" Rachel gushed, gripping her warm hot chocolate to heat up her fingers against the brisk autumn air.

"How do you know all this?" Finn asked, his face growing more and more confused. Rachel sidled up to him as closely as possible while they walked through the park, trying to absorb his body heat.

"Santana told me," Rachel supplied. "Quinn definitely wasn't interested in sharing any information on the topic."

"I thought Santana was her best friend," Finn said, taking a sip of his own hot chocolate.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Finn, keep up. Santana became her best friend _after_ Quinn's accident. Quinn and Puck had been working together for two years, and she and Allie had been dating for a year and a half." Rachel shivered in the cold. "Can you imagine leaving someone after that amount of time for something like that?"

"Well, you can't really blame her." Finn scratched the back of his neck. "It's not like you'd stick around with me if I was paralyzed from the chest down."

Rachel's look was incredulous. Finn suppressed a chuckle at her wide eyes. "Of course I would!"

Finn shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't want someone staying with me out of pity." A bird flew by in front of them. "I mean, strangers wipe your ass."

Rachel kept quiet at Finn's words.

"And think of all the things you couldn't do. No more walking, weight lifting," he paused and gave Rachel a look. "No more sex."

Rachel rolled her eyes and slapped his arm. She thought for a moment, and spoke before her mind could filter her words. "Well, you could have sex. It would just be that your significant other would have to be on top."

"Well, we'd be doomed, then."

Rachel's jaw dropped at the words. She scoffed and picked up her pace, speed walking away from Finn.

The tall boy kicked the pavement and sighed. "Rachel, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

Rachel's pace didn't slow, so Finn sped up to a half jog to catch up to her. "Rachel, I am sorry. I shouldn't have said it."

Rachel gave a self-affirming nod. "No, you shouldn't have."

Finn looked off into the distance. Rachel had slowed and they were walking side by side again, so he took it as a chance to bring something up. "Hey, listen, about the holiday…"

"Yes?" Rachel asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"How would you feel…"

"Yes?" Rachel was growing exasperated.

"About going to Toledo?"

 _Toledo_? "Toledo?" Rachel asked, confused.

Finn nodded and grinned.

Rachel gripped her cup a little tighter. Why Toledo? She thought maybe Finn would want to do something more romantic, go somewhere actually exciting. "Um, sure, that sounds great, Finn."

"Great!" Finn laughed, his smile growing wider. "You can come watch me play in the friendly football tournament!"

Rachel's smile dropped. "A football competition?"

"Yeah, me and some of the guys from high school formed a casual team and decided to compete," Finn told her, wearing a half smile.

Rachel couldn't stop the look of disappointment on her face. "That's our holiday?"

Finn's smile faltered slightly. "Yeah, but not all of it. Just the beginning, and then we'll sightsee, or whatever," Finn said, shrugging. "Come on, Rach, it will be fun. You can come cheer me on."

Rachel wanted to be enthusiastic for Finn, but she couldn't. She could only feel bitter for Finn choosing a casual football team, years after high school, over her.

The brunette decided to suck it up. She was grateful for any time she could spend with Finn. At least they'd have a day or two to themselves. "Okay, Finn."

"Yes!" Finn exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air before throwing his arm around Rachel's shoulders. "You won't regret it. We'll have the best time."

Rachel nodded, slightly, and leaned into Finn's body for warmth. She really hoped that was true.

* * *

Rachel tapped the toes of her pink flats against the floor while she sat at the kitchen island in the annex. Attempting to resurrect the broken frames that had fallen on the floor, Rachel found herself using a hot glue gun that Wednesday afternoon to seal the pieces of glass back together. She hissed when she burned herself, yet again, and waved her hand violently in the air to stem off some of the pain.

Rachel heard the door to Quinn's room slide open and felt her mouth suddenly go dry. No matter how much she willed it not to be so, the brunette's stomach could only drop further and further as Quinn approached the kitchen.

Rachel finally looked up when Quinn stopped next to her and could see what she was doing. The blonde looked Rachel up and down, eyeing her navy skirt and red sweater with black bows before shifting her gaze. Rachel followed Quinn's eyes to her project on the table. She set the glue and picture frame down and pressed her palms flat to the table.

"I just thought maybe I could fix them," Rachel offered, trying not to break eye contact with Quinn. The other girl just watched her, the same bored, HBIC look plastered across her face as always. "Or, um, if you wanted to get new frames, I could go into town on my lunch break. Or we could both go!"

Quinn sighed and shook her head, and Rachel watched her fingers start to tap like a wave on her armrest. That was maybe Rachel's least favorite action.

"You know what, Berry," Quinn said, and Rachel started to wring her hands. "Those pictures didn't fall _accidentally_."

Rachel looked down at the glued-together pieces of glass on the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

"You thought you knew what was best." Rachel could hear the irritation in Quinn's voice, no matter how hard the blonde tried to play it cool. "Well, I don't want those pictures staring at me every time I'm stuck in bed, waiting for someone to get me out again, okay?" The blonde's fingers had stopped tapping, and now had a death grip on the armrest.

"I wasn't going to fix the one with Allison," Rachel said, trying not to pout.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Spare me the fake psychology, Berry. Just go raid your grandmother's wardrobe or whatever it is you do when you're not making cookies."

Quinn started to move back to her room. Rachel balled her hands into fists and felt her frustration hit its peak. Quinn was just almost out of sight when Rachel spoke up.

"You don't have to be a bitch."

Quinn froze. Silence fell over the room like a blanket. Rachel was pretty sure she'd stopped breathing.

Quinn backed up and turned to face Rachel, her eyes narrowing. The brunette was too on edge to be intimidated by it. They both stared each other down, neither moving nor backing off.

Rachel's voice was low when she spoke. "Your friends got the rude treatment. Fine. _They_ deserved it. I'm just trying to do my job as best as I can." Rachel's voice started to shake. "So it would be really nice if you didn't try to make my life as miserable as you _apparently_ make everyone else's!" The sentence came rushed out of Rachel's mouth, and she found herself breathing a little more heavily.

Quinn didn't miss a beat. "And what if I said I didn't want you here?"

Rachel let out a dry laugh. "I'm not employed by you. I'm employed by your mother. So unless _she_ says she doesn't want me here anymore, I'm staying. Not because I care about you, or particularly enjoy your company, but because I need the money." The brunette paused for a moment and closed her eyes to catch her breath, reopening them a moment later. "I _really_ need the money."

The room grew silent once more. If Rachel didn't know any better, she might've said that Quinn almost started to shrink a little. The blonde's lips had parted slightly, and Rachel could see her cold demeanor glitch for a second. But Rachel blinked, and the crack in the ice queen's walls was gone.

Even so, her voice was now softer. "Just put them in the drawer," Quinn conceded.

The blonde turned her wheelchair and made her way back to her room. There was a different way about the way Quinn was now carrying herself as she left Rachel's sight. Rachel couldn't hide the shock and confusion on her face. Had she just won that battle?

* * *

Rachel waited a few hours before checking in with Quinn just after lunchtime. She slid the tall metal door open and found Quinn staring out the window, watching the thunderstorm. She wondered what Quinn thought about, spending so much time staring out the window at the world outside, never actually leaving.

"Hi. Am I needed?" Rachel asked, exhaustion present in her tone.

Rachel, having expected Quinn to respond with silence, was surprised when the woman actually replied. "It feels like movie weather." Quinn's voice seemed to be carrying the same level of exhaustion that Rachel's had. "Des Hommes Et Des Dieux."

Rachel's eyebrows raised, and she found herself slightly amused at the blonde's French pronunciation. "Okay…" Rachel responded, walking to the tall glass cabinet next to the TV in Quinn's room and pulling the DVD from the shelf. She took the disc out of the case and slipped it into the player that was also hiding within the cabinet.

She glanced at the case cover, taking in a picture of what seemed to be several monks sitting around a table, having a conversation. "What is it about?"

"It's French gay porn," the blonde deadpanned.

Rachel rolled her eyes and placed the case back on the shelf.

"You really don't enjoy sarcasm, do you?" Quinn eyed her with a new look that still had a level of iciness, but was now different.

Rachel closed the cabinet and turned to face Quinn. "Sarcasm is fine. I just don't like superiority," was her response.

Quinn breathed a laugh through her nose. "Then you must hate me."

Rachel looked into Quinn's eyes and shook her head. "I've never hated anyone."

Quinn just scoffed in lieu of a reply.

Rachel grabbed the remote and handed it to Quinn. "Let me know if you need anything," she told the blonde.

Rachel was about to spin on her heels, but Quinn's voice stopped her.

"Have you seen it?" Quinn asked.

"I haven't," Rachel replied. "I don't frequently watch films with subtitles." Rachel pressed her hands to her stomach.

"Your school never taught you how to read?" Quinn jabbed.

Rachel gave Quinn a look that showed her distaste for the question. "Yes, I know how to read, Quinn Fabray. I just prefer other kinds of movies."

Rachel could see a twinkle in Quinn's eye. She was teasing her, prodding her to see how the brunette would react. See how far she could take things.

"Movies other than gay porn?"

Rachel caught sight of the smirk on Quinn's lips and couldn't help a shy smile from spreading across her own. Her cheeks flushed slightly at the word "porn" being spoken out loud, once again. "Yes. Like musicals, and romantic comedies."

Quinn let out a small chuckle and Rachel's smile grew wider at the rare melodic sound. She caught herself this time, though, and wiped the smile from her face. Quinn Fabray could pounce at any moment with a quip that could hit her somewhere emotionally vulnerable, and she wanted to be ready for it.

"Of course you do. It falls right along the lines of your 'whimsical' personality, Rachel Berry."

When was the last time Quinn said her first name?

"Is there a problem with being 'whimsical'?" Rachel asked, using air quotes.

Quinn shook her head and laughed mirthlessly. "It's too…" she looked Rachel up and down. "Saccharine."

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek and looked down. She wasn't sure how to respond. She could feel Quinn watching her.

"Sit down," she heard the blonde speak. "Watch this with me."

Rachel looked up to observe the woman in the wheelchair. She was sure the blonde must have been joking, or making fun of her. She looked into Quinn's eyes, so carefully made blank to keep from betraying any emotion, and found no animosity.

The brunette contemplated her options. Was she really going to sit down and watch a movie with a bear in its cave? Rachel knew right now that if her life was a nature documentary, or a horror movie, the audience would be screaming at her not to do it.

Nevertheless, Rachel walked over and took a seat on the couch. She didn't bother to look up at Quinn to see the self-satisfied smirk on her face.

* * *

By the time the movie had ended, the sun was out, and any trace of the thunderstorm had disappeared.

Rachel couldn't bring herself to move after the credits began to roll. She felt emotionally bare. The movie had overtaken Rachel with its grave and thoughtful undertones, and now she wasn't sure what to do with herself.

Being so enraptured in the film and her emotional catharsis, Rachel didn't notice Quinn stealing glances every so often to admire the way Rachel reacted to the particularly poignant scenes. She didn't see the way the blonde looked at her when she felt herself getting choked up at the ending, nor did she notice that Quinn no longer observed her with contempt, but a whole new emotion altogether. An emotion the blonde refused to pinpoint within herself.

After a solid minute of watching the white letters scroll up the screen, Quinn moved forward slightly, and into Rachel's line of vision. "So?" She inquired.

Rachel didn't hesitate. "Well, they could have left!" She gestured to the TV with her hand.

"They chose to stay."

"I know, I get it, being there gave their lives more meaning, but that's-"

"But you don't agree." Quinn's eyes reflected amusement back into Rachel's own despair.

"Well, to sacrifice themselves like that…" Rachel felt her chest grow tight. "Could you imagine?"

"But you liked the movie?" Quinn smirked.

"I loved it." The brunette didn't bother to hold back.

Quinn tried as best she could to stifle a chuckle, but Rachel didn't miss it. "Oh, if you're laughing at me, I'll push you out of that chair," the brunette narrowed her eyes.

Quinn shook her head, and found herself smiling despite how hard she tried not to. "I'm not laughing at you." Her eyes traveled to the window and took in the sunlight poking through the clouds. "The sky is clearing. Would you like to get some air?"

Rachel's heart stopped. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Quinn Fabray was actually willing to leave the annex. Her mega-watt smile found its way back onto her face. "I would."

Rachel stood up and practically skipped to Quinn's closet. She scanned the articles of clothing draped on wooden hangers. Her fingers brushed across a powder blue cardigan, and Rachel pulled it from the hanger. She brought it over to Quinn and the blonde raised her eyebrow.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Your immune system is compromised, Quinn. I'm not going to be responsible for you catching hypothermia." Rachel lifted up Quinn's arm and slid it through the sleeve. "Santana would kill me."

Quinn breathed a laugh through her nose. Rachel gently pressed a hand between Quinn's shoulder blades and leaned her forward. She wrapped the cardigan around her back and over her other shoulder, before working her way around the wheelchair. She gripped Quinn's hand and hoped the blonde didn't feel her goosebumps when her fingers brushed against Rachel's skin.

After gently pulling Quinn's arm through the other sleeve, Rachel walked into the main room of the annex and grabbed her bright pink raincoat with white polka dots.

"Shall we?" Rachel asked Quinn, smiling.

The blonde nodded.

The two found themselves wandering through the garden outside of the mansion. The grass was still slightly wet, but it didn't seem to interfere with Quinn's wheelchair, so Rachel convinced herself not to worry. She couldn't help but smile to herself every time Quinn stopped to admire the red and pink flowers wilting in the brisk air. For someone who seemed to love this garden so much, Rachel had never seen Quinn in it.

Quinn broke the silence after a while. "I'm just amazed that you've reached the ripe old age of, what?"

Rachel sighed. "Twenty-two," she supplied.

"…Twenty-two, and never have watched a movie with subtitles," Quinn smirked.

Rachel shook her head at the blonde. "Well, I'm just amazed that you've reached the 'ripe old age' of twenty-six without being locked in a cupboard for being such a film snob," Rachel teased.

Quinn stopped in her tracks. "What?" The blonde laughed. "E.T. is one of my favorite movies."

Rachel was sure she'd never get tired of hearing Quinn laugh. She didn't know why Quinn's mood had changed so abruptly, but she wasn't going to wish it away. Well, she assumed it was because she finally called Quinn out for the treatment she'd been giving her. But she didn't expect Quinn to begin to warm up to her. She was still the ice queen, but Rachel had a good enough eye to tell that she was melting.

"E.T. is everyone's favorite movie," Rachel remarked, turning to face Quinn.

"I've seen every Pixar movie," Quinn threw back to her.

Rachel scoffed. "So has the world."

Quinn rocked her head from one side, and to the other. "I've got a soft spot for 80's and 90's romcoms. Like When Harry Met Sally."

Rachel nodded. "That's better."

In the distance, Judy Fabray had just passed a window in the kitchen when she caught sight of a tiny brunette in a pink raincoat and red rain boots, and her own daughter making their way through the garden.

Her eyes widened slightly, and she gripped the pen and folder in her hands a little tighter. She hadn't seen Quinn leave the annex in weeks, much less just for the pleasure of doing so. The older blonde felt her heart leap, though her cold exterior was unchanging. Maybe things were improving.

The blonde collected herself and sauntered back to her office.

"So, what do you do with yourself when you're not here, Berry?" Quinn asked, moving forward once more.

Rachel strolled in pace with Quinn. "Well, I spend time with my family. And I like to watch musicals," Quinn eyed her but chose not to say anything. "Um, I watch Finn, my boyfriend, lift weights at the gym sometimes," she shrugged.

Quinn turned her head to face Rachel. "But you don't workout with him?"

Rachel kicked her shiny red boot against the wet grass. "I'm not exactly built for it. I'm more of a performer than an athlete." She stood a little straighter.

Quinn changed the subject. "This is an impressive list of hobbies."

Rachel was quick to defend herself. "Well, I like to read," she brought up. "And I like to sing," she smiled.

"You like to sing?" Quinn inquired, and Rachel chose to ignore the judging tone.

"Yes. I've been singing as long as I've been able to talk. My dads say I have a gift. So did our high school glee club coach. My dream was always to be on Broadway," Rachel looked off towards the pine trees in the distance.

Rachel expected Quinn to comment on this, but the blonde chose not to say anything her eyes also looking towards the tree line. She waited, because she knew she was wide open for Quinn to make a witty comment, but the woman next to her stayed silent.

Rachel looked forward once more and shrugged. "I guess I don't do much. I go to work, and I go home, and that's pretty much it."

"Wow," Quinn breathed out, pausing her wheelchair. "Your life's even duller than mine."

Rachel rolled her eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. "I guess it's because I'm stuck with you," Rachel joked.

Rachel expected the blonde to do one of her closed-lipped laughs, but Quinn's expression was dismal. She looked to be contemplating something, but Rachel wasn't sure what, and Quinn didn't seem to be willing to speak up to tell her.

After an uncomfortable silence, Rachel opened her mouth to say something, but Quinn pressed a button and moved her wheelchair forward ahead of the brunette. Rachel watched the blonde continue her pace without so much as looking back, and couldn't stop the concern spreading across her face.

Rachel sighed and began walking as well, trying in vain to keep from feeling dejected at the idea of hurting Quinn's feelings.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter deviated a little bit from where I had originally planned, but I find Quinn and Santana highly amusing.

 **Please leave a review**! It would really mean the world to me to know if you guys like the story, or see an aspect of the story or my writing that you think needs improvement. I'd love to know what you guys think and what you would like to see happen.

* * *

Rachel ate her lunch at the island in the annex that Thursday afternoon, as opposed to hiding in the garden like she usually did. Things had been easier with Quinn over the last few days and she didn't feel the need to get as far away from the annex as possible when she had her lunch break anymore.

The sound of the metal door sliding open made Rachel lift her head from her salad. Santana walked out with a towel in hand and made her way towards the bathroom. "Well, she's in a good mood," Santana commented. She threw the towel in the hamper and walked back toward the kitchen. "She told me all about you making pasta with 'green gravy'," she laughed.

Rachel immediately came to her own defense. "I've never made pesto sauce before," she stated, indignantly.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Berry." She stopped at the island and rested her hand on the marble counter top. When she spoke again, her voice was a little less harsh. "It's been a long time since she's laughed like that at anything."

The nurse turned and wandered back into Quinn's room. Rachel couldn't help but smile to herself. Even Santana had seen the way Quinn seemed different now, more open.

Rachel caught sight of Quinn's blonde hair across the way. Hazel eyes met hers and Rachel smiled softly. Quinn took notice of Rachel's smug smile and raised an eyebrow. The brunette just shrugged and took another bite of her salad. The last thing Rachel saw before Santana closed the big metal door was a small quirk of Quinn's lips.

* * *

Rachel swung her legs nervously in the purple chair in the waiting room. The doctor's office was empty save for her and Santana, and she found herself on edge waiting for Quinn outside the room. There was so little she knew of Quinn's condition. She could only hope that everything was okay.

Next to her, Santana was growing annoyed with Rachel's foot hitting her leg every so often. The raven-haired girl in maroon scrubs finally looked up from her phone after seven minutes of waiting to glare at an anxious Rachel, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Berry, will you quit it? She's fine," Santana told the brunette, agitation ever so present in her voice.

Rachel stilled her legs, but continued the restless movements of her fingers. This was enough to conciliate Santana.

She was about to go back to her phone when a skinny blonde doctor in teal scrubs and a lab coat sauntered by. The doctor caught Santana's eye and smiled shyly. Santana just smirked and winked at her, causing the blonde to giggle as she passed. A self-satisfied grin took over Santana's face as she stared at the doctor's backside.

Rachel had watched the entire interaction, and raised an eyebrow at Santana once she turned her head back (something she'd been beginning to pick up from Quinn). Santana had the decency to look a tad embarrassed, but only shrugged. Rachel rolled her eyes and Santana went back to her phone.

Another blonde doctor walked in front of them this time and opened the door to Quinn's room. All Rachel could hear was "Hello there, Miss Fabray," before the door swung closed and the waiting room was engulfed in silence again. The brunette chewed on the inside of her cheek. She hated waiting.

Rachel turned to the woman next to her. "Santana, what are they doing in there?" She asked, trying to give herself peace of mind.

"She has a check-up every six months," Santana spoke, not looking up from her phone.

"To see if she's getting better?"

Santana shook her head. "No, dwarf, it's a spinal-cord injury" she said slowly, making Rachel feel dumb. "She's not going to get better."

Rachel couldn't stop her own confused expression. "But you do all of those exercises with her."

Santana sighed and dropped her phone in her purse, realizing that Rachel was not going to leave her alone. "That's to stop her muscles from atrophying, Berry." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. When Rachel's confused look didn't go away, she did her best not to roll her eyes. "Quinn's body no longer works below her sternum."

"But she's still trying, right?" Rachel's voice was hopeful.

Santana sighed again, but when she spoke, her voice was less annoyed. "She threw everything into physio the first year, and all she got was limited use of her right arm and slight movement in her left thumb and finger." Santana looked away. "Then the first bout of pneumonia hit, and then autonomic dysreflexia-"

"What does that mean?" Rachel interrupted. Her fidgeting only continued.

Santana shook her head, trying to be patient. "Okay, so her blood pressure goes up and down, which means she's constantly open to infection."

Rachel took this information in. "But there's medical advances taking place all the time, right? Quinn's family is rich, surely they can-"

"No one has worked out how to fix a spinal cord yet, Berry," Santana told her a little solemnly.

Rachel turned forward in her seat, feeling a little numb. Her chest grew tight at the thought of Quinn working so hard to overcome her injury, yet still being trapped in her own body. Her heart sank for the now seemingly small blonde at a loss in her own life. The thought made her shrink a little.

* * *

Rachel practically skipped into the movie theater a week later, giggling as Finn held the door open for her. It had begun to snow lightly now that it was the fourth week in November. The brunette was absolutely thrilled that her boyfriend wanted to take her on a date, and she gripped his arm in line for the tickets.

Finn smiled down at her and pecked her on her forehead. Rachel was thrilled to be out of the annex for the weekend. Things were certainly getting easier now that Quinn was warming up to her (at least she wasn't getting the death glare eight times a day), but work was work and it just felt nice to get a break from strict schedules and copious amounts of waiting around.

More importantly, Rachel was grateful that Finn wanted to take her on a date. He spent so much time lifting weights and practicing with his casual football team that she barely saw him anymore.

Rachel fiddled with her red scarf and looked around the movie theater while the two of them waited in line for tickets. Her eyes caught sight of a movie poster on the wall several feet away from them. It depicted a young woman with brown hair and piercing eyes holding a red blanket behind an older woman with wet hair. It was titled _Julieta_ by Pedro Almodóvar, a Spanish filmmaker.

Rachel grinned lightly and tugged on Finn's arm. "Oh, I hear this one is good," she stated, eagerly, pointing to the poster. The line moved forward, and only one more customer separated them from purchasing their tickets.

Finn turned his head to glance in the direction Rachel was pointing. His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Because we suddenly speak Spanish?" He asked, turning his head back to Rachel.

Finn's dismissal of the movie didn't deter Rachel. "No, Finn, it has subtitles. Eventually you stop noticing it after a while," she explained, remembering her experience last week with Quinn fondly. She truly loved the movie, and now felt that she was missing out on a world of beautiful movies she'd brushed off due to the fact that they weren't in English.

Finn scoffed and shook his head. The customer in front of them vacated their spot and he stepped forward, adopting a half-smile as he addressed the cashier. "Two for the Will Ferrell movie," he said, ignoring Rachel's suggestion.

Rachel's smile fell as her boyfriend blatantly disregarded everything she'd just told him. She felt herself become frustrated, which carried through both the commercials and the entire movie. Finn tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders ten minutes into the film, but she shook him off. She was in no mood.

Finn laughed at every dumb joke and attempt at humor in the movie, and Rachel fumed each time. After two unsuccessful attempts at holding Rachel's hand, he just clung to his popcorn bucket and chewed loudly. Rachel hoped he would choke.

When the movie was over, Rachel's anger had subsided, but she still had absolutely no desire to talk to Finn. What was so wrong about doing what she wanted for once?

When it was clear that Rachel was not going to engage in conversation with him as they walked through the lobby, Finn sighed. "I'm gonna run to the bathroom," he stated.

Rachel provided no response, and Finn left her to go find the restroom. She rolled her eyes and slipped her coat on, preparing to walk outside in the cold weather when he was done. She folded her arms and tapped her fingertips lightly against the crooks of her elbows.

A blonde flash of hair caught her eyes on the other side of the room, and an instant warm feeling settled in the pit of Rachel's stomach. She looked over to see Quinn in a white V-neck, a black leather jacket, dark blue skinny jeans and black leather ankle boots. Rachel blanched as she took in the sight of the clothes Quinn chose to wear out. The blonde looked hot, and Rachel felt herself blushing for thinking so. She honestly couldn't believe Quinn had even decided to go out. She was positive that Quinn was a shut-in who would never see the light of day without obligation or persistent prodding from Rachel.

Before she was aware of what was happening, Rachel's legs were carrying her forward, towards the blonde she couldn't stop staring at. As she got closer, she realized that Quinn was with Santana, who was in a green and black striped form-fitting dress, hugging each and every one of her curves, as well as the tall blonde from the hospital in a pink sweater with a white jacket and jeans. They all looked gorgeous, and Rachel realized she had never seen Santana out of her scrubs. Her eyes lingered on Quinn the longest, though, and she attributed it to the fact that she never figured she'd see Quinn Fabray in a place like this.

Rachel's steps slowed as she reached the group, and Quinn noticed her presence first, her hazel eyes snapping immediately to the approaching brunette in a reindeer sweater and plaid skirt with tights beneath her pea coat. Rachel saw a range of emotions pass through Quinn's eyes too quickly to be identified individually, before her face settled into a smug smirk.

"Rachel Berry, as I live and breathe," Quinn spoke, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rachel rolled her eyes, but a warm smile settled on her lips. "Hello, Quinn," she replied. Her breath hitched when she realized how low Quinn's neckline truly was, and she found herself tracing Quinn's cleavage.

Rachel's eyes widened in horror at what she'd done. Did she just check out Quinn Fabray? Quinn Fabray, the woman she had a strictly professional relationship with? Either forgetting or ignoring the fact that she had a boyfriend she was currently on a date with?

Her ears burned, and Rachel caught a twinkle in Quinn's eye. There's no way Quinn hadn't followed Rachel's line of sight.

The brunette cleared her throat and fought the urge to fan her face. She turned her attention to the two women standing next to Quinn, watching her with amused smiles. "Hi, Santana," Rachel said, staring directly at the dark-haired woman and absolutely nowhere else.

Santana smirked. "Hey, Berry."

Rachel looked to the blonde woman next to Santana. "Hi, I'm Rachel. It's nice to meet you…" she trailed off, allowing the woman to finish for her.

"I'm Brittany," she stated matter-of-factly. "You look like an elf." Brittany looked at Rachel's outfit. "I like your tights."

Rachel just stared at Brittany, trying to wrap her head around the blonde's trail of thought, not able to find it in herself to be offended. "It's nice to meet you, Brittany. Are you a friend of Santana's?"

"If being friends means I get to give her lady kisses, then yes," Brittany smiled at Santana.

Rachel had never thought in a million years that she would see Santana Lopez blush, and yet here she was, in the flesh, face turning redder with every word out of Brittany's mouth. A shit-eating grin took over both Rachel's and Quinn's faces.

Santana spoke in a hushed tone. "Not appropriate, Britt."

"Aww, is little Sanny embarrassed?" Quinn teased, suppressing a chuckle.

"Shut it, Fabray," Santana growled, face flushing. Rachel couldn't stop the snicker that came from her mouth if she tried. "You too, Berry."

Brittany just smirked and threw her arm over Santana's shoulders, pulling her close. This seemed to placate the Latina.

"So, Brittany, did I see you at the hospital the other day?" Rachel asked, changing the subject for poor Santana.

Brittany nodded. "Yes, I'm a brain surgeon. I met Santana as one of my nurses in the neuro ward before she started working at people's houses," she explained.

Rachel's jaw dropped. She did not hear that correctly. This woman who had just called her an elf was a brain surgeon? "I'm sorry, a brain surgeon?" Rachel choked out.

Brittany rocked on her heels. "Of course," she said straight-faced, putting Rachel off. "I graduated from MIT."

Rachel could only stare at Brittany sideways.

"Close your mouth, midget," Santana snapped. She turned her gaze to Brittany and a soft smile immediately fell across her lips. "Britt-Britt is a genius."

"You've got a little drool," Quinn teased, gesturing to her own face

Santana glared at Quinn over Brittany's shoulder and the blonde just smirked.

Quinn turned her attention to Rachel and Rachel's eyes immediately met hers. She gave Rachel a onceover and suddenly the brunette was regretting the red tights to match the sweater. Quinn raised an inquisitive eyebrow, and Rachel felt obligated to speak.

"So what are you guys doing here?" She asked.

"We can't go out to see a movie on a Friday night like everyone else?" was Quinn's retort.

Rachel paled. "N-no, I- that's not what I was implying, I just… _assumed_ someone like…" _Quinn Fabray, a millionaire heiress would have better ways to spend her time than at the movies._ But Rachel didn't end up finishing her thought. Instead, she decided to change the topic. "What movie are you guys seeing?"

" _Julieta_ ," was Quinn's languid response.

Rachel smiled. "Oh that's lovely."

Quinn looked at Rachel and spoke before biting her lip. "Did you see it?"

Rachel watched the action. "Oh no, we saw the Will Ferrell movie," Rachel said, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

She expected Quinn to tease her about refusing to see yet another film with subtitles but instead, she asked, "We?"

Rachel grabbed her left arm with her right hand. "Yes. Finn and I."

Quinn nodded and made an affirmative noise.

"Would you like to meet him? He should be getting out of the restroom any minute…" Rachel asked, hopefully. She was suddenly eager to show Quinn Fabray her boyfriend, wanting to impress the blonde. Not that Finn was particularly impressive, but if Quinn thought her life was boring at least she could point to her boyfriend and say _look, he's real! I'm in a relationship! My life isn't sad and pathetic!_

But Quinn shook her head immediately. "That's okay. We should go anyway, the movie will be starting soon, and we don't want to miss it."

Rachel watched Santana flash a look to Quinn, but the blonde ignored it.

"Oh, okay, well then I'll see you Monday, I guess…" Rachel couldn't stop the disappointment in her voice.

Quinn gave a slight nod. "I'll see you Monday, Berry." She pressed a button and moved past Rachel.

Santana followed, tugging Brittany along with her. "Later, dwarf."

"Bye, Rachel!" Brittany said enthusiastically.

Rachel waved to Brittany. "Bye."

As if born for poor timing, Finn walked up to Rachel, drying his hands on his pants. "Are you ready to go?" He asked, placing his hand on the small of her back.

Rachel looked up at him and nodded.

Finn gave her a half-smile, and Rachel smiled despite herself. She leaned up on her tippy toes and Finn met her the rest of the way, pressing a kiss to her lips. They pulled away and smiled at one another.

Rachel's smile faltered slightly when she felt a pair of eyes on her, burning holes into the back of her neck. Something tugged at the pit of her stomach and she looked in the direction of where she felt the gaze was coming from, but didn't see anyone she recognized. She shook off the feeling and the resulting shiver, shoving a spark of _something_ deep deep down where she wouldn't have to worry.

She took Finn's hand and they made their way out of the theater.

"Does this mean you're not upset with me anymore?"

Rachel's irritation with Finn came suddenly rushing back to her and she dropped his hand with a huff.

"Aww, come on, Rach."

* * *

The following Monday, Rachel and Quinn took a quiet morning stroll along the riverbed by the trees on the Fabray property. Quinn's clothes were back to a modest long-sleeve black Under Armour shirt with black yoga pants and a winter jacket, while Rachel continued her trend of sweaters and skirts with a bluer ensemble.

"So why did you end up going to the movie theater?" Rachel finally asked. "I figured Quinn Fabray would have better things to do, like stare pensively out the window or slam doors in people's faces."

A ghost of a smirk rested on Quinn's face, even as she tried to remain stoic. "Santana wanted me to meet Brittany."

"Oh," Rachel took that information in. "Otherwise you wouldn't have been at the movie theater?"

"Otherwise I wouldn't have gone out."

Rachel fiddled with the cuff of her pea coat. "Did you like her?"

Quinn chuckled and watched the way the water danced along the riverbed and echoed against the rocks. "Of course. She reduces Santana Lopez, a bulldog by any other means, to a puddle of goo." A wistful look passed through Quinn's smoky eyes. "They're perfect for each other."

Rachel nodded. She also got that impression, even though she had only been around them for a moment.

The brunette glanced at Quinn's faraway look and wondered, certainly not for the first time, what Quinn was thinking. She tugged on her lip gently and felt the words tumbling from her mouth before she was aware of it.

"Do you think you'll ever see anyone again?" She asked, nervously.

Quinn's eyes flickered to Rachel. She gripped the armrests of her wheelchair and scanned the brunette's face for something. Rachel knew it was a personal question, and felt herself squirm slightly under the blonde's gaze.

Quinn returned to facing the water. Rachel breathed out a sigh of relief. She figured Quinn wasn't going to answer, so her heart gained an extra beat when Quinn's voice broke the silence.

"No. I'm not going to try to find love when I can watch gay French porn and snuggle Santana," Quinn let out a wry chuckle.

Rachel shook her head. "That joke is getting old, Fabray."

Quinn laughed. "I could never grow tired of gay porn."

Rachel's cheeks flushed, in spite of the fact that this was probably the fourth time Quinn's mentioned gay porn just to rile her. She tried to get the conversation back on track. "I don't see the point of living if you don't believe in love."

Quinn looked to Rachel and opened her mouth to say something, before closing it. She gave an empty chuckle and looked forward. "Skiing."

Rachel locked her fingers and gave Quinn a questioning look.

The blonde sighed and cocked her head to the side. "Skiing is the point of living. Skiing and white water rafting, and wind surfing, and dancing in the rain."

Rachel watched Quinn speak, her heart melting a little bit. "I didn't realize..." Rachel trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

"That I was so active?" Quinn finished for her. "I was determined to get everything I could out of life."

"And now?" Rachel asked, pulling her arms behind her back and holding her wrist.

Quinn watched the steam from her breath float and disappear into the atmosphere. "Now I'm surviving." She traced the white water breaking in the river. "I don't have time to kiss my boyfriend in public, no matter how appalling to the general public."

Rachel's eyes widened. She looked to Quinn and grinned. _Ah ha!_ She _knew_ someone was watching. She also had an inkling feeling it had been the blonde. "Do you always make a habit of stalking other people and watching them kiss?"

Quinn couldn't meet Rachel eyes. She scoffed. "I didn't _stalk_ anybody. I can't help it if I happen to look over and see Paul Bunyun and the Keebler elf making out."

Rachel wasn't having any of it. "The lady doth protest too much." She smirked.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You can't mock me after choosing to go see the Will Ferrell movie over _Julieta._ "

It was Rachel's turn to scoff. "I didn't choose to see it, Finn did. I tried to convince him otherwise, but he ignored me."

Quinn's eyes flickered to Rachel's and burned through her pupils. Rachel was taken aback by the sudden flame licking hazel irises. "Interesting that he thinks he can be so conceited when he has someone like you." Her voice was low and cool, and Rachel felt herself shivering at more than just the cold air.

 _Someone like you._ Rachel wasn't entirely sure what Quinn had meant by that. Surely Quinn wasn't implying that Rachel was special in anyway… right?

Quinn looked away suddenly, hiding her face from Rachel. The brunette tightened her jaw. If she was insane, she might think that Quinn was almost _jealous._ She felt her chest constrict for a moment.

But she wasn't insane, and she knew Quinn Fabray. The same Quinn Fabray who iced her out for over a month couldn't possibly be… No. Rachel almost laughed at the thought. Quinn was just being her usual self, cold and calculating to anyone she didn't care for. Finn just happened to be one of those people.

The brunette noticed Quinn's lips chattering in the cold and finally realized that she herself was shivering. She gave Quinn an out. "Should we go inside and warm up? I can start making lunch?"

Quinn looked back to her and nodded. Rachel noticed for the first time that Quinn's lips were turning blue. "Oh, Quinn…" The blonde's eyebrows rose at the soft tone of Rachel's voice. "Let's get you inside."

The blonde and brunette left the riverside, letting all talk of Finn Hudson travel downstream with the rest of the debris and underbrush.

* * *

A/N: _foreshadowing_ ;)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry it's taken a while to update, life caught up with me pretty quickly. If it's any consolation, here's a little bit longer of a chapter. As always, I would like to thank all of you for your reviews, follows, and favorites. They mean so much more than you know.

There's a brief mention of self-harm in this one.

Please leave a review, and enjoy!

* * *

Rachel slipped off her pea coat and hung it, as well as her hat and scarf, on the coat rack. Her outfit was more muted today, a gray sweater with a black skirt and black flats – only because she was running out of clean clothes, and too tired to do laundry whenever she got home.

When she turned to walk to Quinn's room, she saw a tall blonde man in a black sweater vest and black slacks closing the big metal doors. He was carrying a blue folder. He flinched slightly when he saw Rachel, and she felt bad for sneaking up on him. The man placed the blue folder on the table in the living room and turned to the brunette.

"I believe we haven't met. I'm Russell Fabray." He stood straight and tall and stared Rachel in the eye, holding out his right hand.

Aloof and stoic must run in the family, because like Judy and Quinn, the air around Russell Fabray was intimidating. Rachel felt small beneath his towering figure.

Rachel met Russell's hand with her own and shook it, swallowing at his firm grip. She shook it off and met him with a smile. "I'm Rachel Berry. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," he stated.

Rachel brought her hand back to her side and fiddled with the fabric of her skirt. "Is she okay?" She asked.

Russell looked away and grabbed his folder. "She's not great. She has a bit of a chill."

Rachel's eyes grew nervous. "Where's Santana?"

"I've called her. She'll be here soon." Russell turned to Rachel and slipped a hand in his pocket. "Look, Judy's been called to New York. Are you going to be alright here?"

Rachel nodded eagerly, despite feeling anxious. "Of course."

Russell nodded at her and walked to the door that led to the rest of the mansion. As he opened the door, he threw out, "I'm on my cell if you need me," before leaving and closing it behind him.

Rachel wasn't sure what to make of that conversation.

She turned on her heels and made her way to Quinn's door. When the door slid open, Rachel's mouth went dry.

Despite being in a wheelchair, Quinn Fabray always had a way of standing tall. When she first started the job, she found Quinn's air of superiority suffocating. The heiress could command anyone's attention with just the twitch of her eyebrow.

But in that moment, Rachel Berry had never seen Quinn Fabray look so small. She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her throat.

The white comforter was covering Quinn almost up to her shoulders, but it was clear her skin was flushed and pale. Sweat was coating her hair and collecting in the valley of her collarbone. The blonde's eyes were closed, but Rachel could see her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, indicating she was awake.

Rachel's steps were hesitant as she approached Quinn's bedside. She thought she was being quiet, until she saw Quinn take a deep breath when she was a mere foot away.

"Hello, Berry." Her eyes remained closed.

Rachel couldn't stop her mega-watt smile if she tried. "Hello, Quinn."

The blonde could try all she wanted, but Rachel didn't miss the ghost of a smile that flashed across her dry lips.

Rachel instinctively brought the back of her hand to Quinn's forehead. Her chest tightened when she felt the heat of her skin. She was about to open her mouth to speak when she noticed a slight shiver wrack Quinn's shoulders. _Interesting._

"Oh Quinn, you're burning up," Rachel spoke softly.

The blonde swallowed thickly. "My pillows aren't right," she pointed out with a raspy voice.

Rachel rolled her eyes and removed her hand from Quinn's forehead. "What would you like me to do?" She asked.

Quinn's head lolled towards Rachel as she forced her eyes open. "Put your hand under my head, behind my neck, and just lift gently."

Rachel nodded. Before she could think it through, she lifted her leg and leaned onto the bed with her knee. She froze for a moment, making sure she didn't disturb the ice queen herself, before reaching for Quinn's head with both hands. Making sure she had her weight evenly distributed, Rachel slowly slid her hand under Quinn's neck.

"Christ," Quinn exclaimed under her breath, closing her eyes again.

Rachel froze again. "What? What's wrong?" She asked, terrified of hurting the woman beneath her.

"Your fingers are freezing, Berry."

Rachel smiled and shook her head. She carefully raised Quinn's head and grabbed the pillow behind her, shifting it up slightly. She tried not to think about how Kurt would be gushing over the fact that she was in Quinn Fabray's bed, inches from her face, feeling her strained breath brush across her cheek.

When the blonde seemed to relax into a more comfortable position, Rachel gently set her head back down. Quinn's eyes flickered open once more. "Better," she whispered.

Rachel grinned at her success. She watched Quinn's eyes flash to her mouth and back up to her eyes. Rachel couldn't help but duck her head at Quinn's abruptly intense gaze.

"Thank you."

Rachel was taken aback not only by the fact that Quinn thanked her for the first time in her life, but also by how much weight Quinn put behind those words. She didn't fully understand, but she had a feeling that she was being thanked for more than just adjusting Quinn's pillow.

Rachel felt suddenly shy, but smiled softly, maintaining eye contact with the blonde. "You're welcome, Quinn."

A pregnant pause filled the room, while Rachel rested on the edge of Quinn's bed, and Quinn continued to lay stock still, both staring at one another. Rachel felt a low pull in her stomach, the stirring of something she couldn't place. There was so much she didn't know with Quinn. Everything was always open-ended and up in the air. She never knew where she stood with the blonde.

But here they were, a hairsbreadth away from each other, and everything felt like it was suddenly in place, for just a moment. She didn't need to know what Quinn was thinking. She just liked being let in. Like Quinn forgot to put up one of her walls this morning, in-between waking up and seeing the brunette. And a small fluttering stirred behind Rachel's ribs, startling her.

It was enough for Rachel to realize she had been staring at Quinn for a touch too long. She cleared her throat and gently slid off Quinn's bed.

"Can I get you some painkillers?" She asked.

Quinn looked away. "Yes, thank you."

Rachel strolled out of the room and into the kitchen, trying to shake off this new feeling she couldn't discern. If there was one thing Rachel Berry hated, it was being unsure. And she was very unsure about what had just occurred.

A purple sticky note sitting on the counter caught Rachel's attention. She took a step closer and pulled it from the marble surface.

 _Berry—_

 _I have a house call at 8. I'll be back by 9 for Quinn's daily appointment. Britt is coming with to see how her immune system is holding up._

 _-S_

The brunette's eyes traveled to the clock on the wall and she swallowed.

9:37am.

* * *

At 12:03pm, Rachel found herself sitting at the foot of Quinn's bed flipping through her binder full of instructions. There was an inordinate amount of detail on what food to prepare and when Quinn should take her daily meds, but nothing about what to do if the blonde was floating in and out of consciousness with a fever of 103.

"Quinn?" She tried to get the blonde's attention. Quinn didn't so much as exhale to indicate she had heard her.

Rachel stood from the bed and walked closer to Quinn. "Quinn?" Her voice was shakier this time, a flash of panic turning her blood cold.

"Quinn, please…"

Rachel knew that Quinn being unresponsive was a very bad sign.

Before Rachel could hit DEFCON 5, a soft whisper fell from Quinn's lips. "Yes…"

Rachel leaned in. "Is there something I should be doing? Some medicine I can give you? I'm really worried, Quinn…"

Quinn's eyebrows knit together. "No."

Rachel tugged at her sleeves. She had already called Santana and Russell Fabray twice, and neither of them were answering. She'd given Quinn pain meds and made her sip water all morning, but the blonde's condition only seemed to be getting worse.

Rachel resorted to pacing, debating whether or not she should try to get a hold of Judy Fabray, despite her emergency trip to New York. Her fingers tapped nervously against her phone case. Against her better judgment, Rachel started dialing Judy's number.

"Don't call my mom."

Rachel glanced up, startled. "What?"

Quinn's face was indiscernible. "We'll be fine, Berry." Her hair was matted to her forehead, and her eyes were glossed over, but Quinn Fabray was still Quinn Fabray.

Rachel was caught up on one minute detail. _We?_

The creaking of the door to the annex invaded the room, and Rachel felt immediate relief ice her veins. She practically ran to the open area.

"Jesus, I'm freezing my ass off," Santana growled, her lips chattering.

Rachel grinned, thrilled to have medical professionals here to help Quinn.

"How's she doing, Rach?" Brittany asked, securing her coat on the rack.

"She's not good," Rachel said, throat dry. "She's in and out. She's having a hard time drinking liquids."

Santana's face dropped. "How long has she been like this?" She didn't wait for Rachel's reply, taking long strides to Quinn's bedroom.

"I don't know. As long as I've been here. Three or four hours."

Santana flashed her an incredulous look before focusing back on Quinn. She pressed her hand to Quinn's forehead and the blonde flinched.

"I tried to call you," Rachel defended herself, her worry coming back tenfold. "I gave her pain medicine."

"You might as well have given her M&Ms!" Santana barked, ripping the comforter off of Quinn.

"She said she just wanted to sleep." Rachel fiddled with the ends of her sleeves.

Santana hopped on the bed, and Brittany joined her on the other side. They both lifted Quinn up, and Brittany held her steady, while Santana peeled off the black V-neck t-shirt Quinn was wearing.

"Quinn doesn't sweat the way we do," Brittany explained, brushing Quinn's wet hair out of her face. "If she gets even a slight cold, her temperature goes crazy."

Rachel swallowed thickly when she spotted Quinn in just a lacy black bra.

"Rachel…"

Her eyes subconsciously traced down the valley of her chest, past her protruding ribs, along her decently defined abs (as someone who had spent so long sitting), until they came to a stop at the comforter sitting in her lap.

"Rachel…"

Rachel knew she should absolutely not be staring at Quinn Fabray like that, for several reasons, but she couldn't stop her heart from beating a mile a minute.

"Midget, get your ass in the kitchen and get us a damp towel ASAP or I swear to God…"

Rachel had reached the counter before Santana could finish her threat. She took a few deep breaths to collect herself. The room with the steel sliding door in the annex of the biggest house she had ever been in was suddenly short of air and suffocating the brunette.

With shaky fingers, Rachel pulled the dishtowel from the oven handle and brought it to the sink. She twisted the sink knob, and closed her eyes as a stream of warm water slid across her hands and soaked into the towel.

After a few seconds, she turned the sink off and wrung the towel before making her way back to Quinn's room.

Brittany was running her fingers through Quinn's hair while Santana checked her vitals. Rachel started to reach forward to hand the towel to the doctor when she stopped short.

Her eyes caught sight of a long pink and white scar traveling along the vein in Quinn's forearm like a roadmap. It must have been at least two inches long, with permanently damaged nerves and blood vessels surrounding the healed wound. Rachel's head was suddenly sent into a spiral, whirling around a weak blonde who had clearly suffered so much more than she knew. She was sure she had dropped her heart somewhere between the door and the plush sheets in front of her.

"Berry, focus." Santana's voice pierced her thoughts and broke her out of her reverie.

"Oh, I- Sorry," Rachel stammered.

Brittany held out her hand for the towel. Rachel's steps were robotic as she moved forward to give the towel to Brittany.

"Watch what I'm doing," Brittany instructed gently.

Rachel nodded.

Brittany carefully brought the towel to Quinn's face and ran it across her cheekbones. She dabbed at her forehead, smiling at Quinn while the sick blonde watched her with concern. "You'll be alright," She assured softly. Quinn responded with a slow blink, and Rachel's chest felt weighted.

The brunette didn't notice Santana leave the room until she saw her return with a small fan. The nurse plugged it into the while and set it on the bedside table, facing Quinn. Brittany finally took the damp towel and loosely wrapped it around Quinn's neck to keep her cool.

Rachel took a deep breath once the urgency seemed to have left the room, and stepped out into the open area once again, to regain control of her worries. She didn't know why she suddenly cared so much about Quinn Fabray's well being. Obviously she cared for everyone, but to have chest pain over a cold? It all felt like too much.

"Hey," Brittany spoke from behind her. Rachel turned and realized the blonde had joined her in the living room. "How are you, Rach?"

Rachel, in a rare moment for the diva, found herself unsure of what to say.

Brittany stepped closer to Rachel, and gently placed her hand on her shoulder. "Quinn will be okay. She's a tough cookie."

Rachel nodded. "I know, it's just… overwhelming. So much was happening."

Brittany gave Rachel a sympathetic smile, but it was Santana's voice that responded.

"Yeah, Quinn can be a drama queen." Santana quietly pulled the door to Quinn's room shut. Rachel gave a dry chuckle. "But you didn't screw up anything too major, Berry."

"This happens every time Quinn gets sick. Her immune system is way worse than ours," Brittany told Rachel.

Rachel felt a chill run through her spine, and she hugged her arms to her body.

"It's nice that you care about her so much," Brittany smiled.

Santana nodded, closing the distance between herself and the other two girls. "You can't always tell with Quinn, but she's warming up to you. Which is more than anyone can say for the last few people in your job."

"She's just a big grumpy gills." Brittany noted.

Another small giggle came from Rachel, and she realized a tear had been running down her cheek. Her hand snapped to her face to wipe it away.

Brittany gave Rachel's shoulder a squeeze before letting it go. She walked to Santana and laced their fingers. Santana's smile was too intimate to be seen by anyone but Brittany, Rachel realized.

When the raven-haired girl remembered they were not alone, her façade immediately switched back to its disdainful self, but she didn't release Brittany's hand.

"We're going to head out, Berry," Santana stated, turning her head to Rachel. "It looks like Quinn is doing much better. Just make sure to keep pumping fluids and helping her stay cool. Don't let her fall asleep with that towel around her neck and replace it every couple of hours."

"Give Santana a call if you need us," Brittany told her.

Rachel smirked when Brittany implied that they were going to be together if she needed them. Santana caught onto this immediately. "Shut up, Berry."

Rachel couldn't stop the laugh that escaped from her throat.

* * *

At 8:22pm, Rachel was draped over the armchair she had dragged into Quinn's room, a foot from her bedside (with an embarrassing amount of effort). She had spent most of her time on her phone, texting Kurt and ignoring Finn's updates about his workout regimen. But now she was just watching the blonde, finding comfort in the rise and fall of Quinn's chest, and the peaceful look of her face after a long and painful day.

"Shouldn't you be watching French gay porn?" Rachel was surprised, but not startled, as she watched Quinn's lips move.

The brunette rolled her eyes, but smiled despite herself. "I'm pretty sure that's more your thing, Quinn."

Quinn's eyes slid open, hearing Rachel joking right back. She exhaled a laugh through her nose.

Rachel didn't hesitate to bring her hand to Quinn's forehead once more. "You must be feeling better if you're able to crack jokes."

Quinn quirked her head to the side. She avoided shivering at Rachel's touch this time. "Where's Santana?" She asked. "Brittany?"

"It's a little after eight. They had a few more patients in the afternoon and went home," Rachel replied, returning her hand to her lap.

Quinn quirked an eyebrow and looked to the ceiling. "Together?"

"I presume so."

Quinn nodded. "Shouldn't you be at home?"

Rachel gave her a soft smile. "You're stuck with me."

Quinn's eyes immediately flashed to Rachel's. She stared for a moment, before returning the smile with one of her own. It was so genuine that Rachel grinned.

Quinn chuckled and shook her head.

Words started falling from Rachel's lips before she could stop them. "Quinn, can I ask you something."

Quinn's gaze flickered from one of Rachel's eyes to the other. "I suspect you're going to."

Rachel swallowed. "W-what happened?"

Quinn didn't need to ask to know what she was talking about. Her eyes returned to the ceiling. "My mother didn't tell you? It's her favorite story."

Rachel shook her head. "Some sort of traffic accident?"

"Motorcycle." Quinn pointed out.

"You were riding a motorcycle?"

"Actually I wasn't." Quinn closed her eyes for a moment. Rachel bit the inside of her cheek. "The bike hit me."

Rachel paused, trying to get a grip on her emotions. Waves of sympathy and concern and heartbreak roiled in her stomach. "Sorry, I'm talking too much again." She stood from her chair. "And you need to rest." Rachel turned and started to walk away.

Quinn's voice stopped her. "No." It was almost a whisper. "Stay."

Rachel turned to face the blonde, who had a look that was almost… desperate.

"Tell me something good."

Rachel's mood shifted, excitement bubbling up inside of her. "I used to say that to my dads!" She strode over to Quinn's bedside, before pausing and gnawing on her lip. "But you'd make fun of me if I told you what their response was."

Quinn smirked. "I'd make fun of you regardless."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Then I won't tell you."

"And resist the urge to talk about yourself? Color me impressed," was Quinn's retort.

Rachel scoffed and started to turn to walk away to leave Quinn's snarky attitude. She stopped in her tracks when she felt warm fingers brush hers. She looked over at Quinn, whose expression had softened.

"Please tell me. I won't make fun of you," Quinn told her. Rachel could feel Quinn's arm shaking slightly, but the blonde doubled down and squeezed Rachel's hand.

Rachel wasn't sure how she was still standing. She wasn't sure whether it was the use of the word "please" by the HBIC herself, or the fact that she could tell that Quinn really needed a distraction, but Rachel couldn't ignore the puppy dog look in Quinn's eyes. If she was being honest with herself, she deeply appreciated Quinn's newfound vulnerability. And how could she say no to someone so pathetically ill?

"Okay," the brunette said quietly, giving Quinn's hand a reassuring squeeze back. She took a seat in the armchair, resting both of their hands on her leg. "On nights when I needed to be comforted, whether I had a nightmare or there was a thunderstorm or anything else happened that distressed me, they used to sing."

Quinn smiled. "Go on."

Rachel was caught off guard yet again by Quinn Fabray actually seeming pleasant. "Um, they used to sing the Molahonkey song."

Quinn gave out an incredulous chuckle. "The what?" Her laugh was a bit more enthused than Rachel had ever heard it, and she found herself giggling along with Quinn.

Rachel absolutely did not notice that Quinn's laughter shook the comforter slightly, revealing Quinn's black lace bra again, and she definitely did not reflexively glance down before catching herself.

The brunette cleared her throat. "The Molahonkey song. I thought everyone knew it."

Quinn shook her head. "Trust me, Rachel, I'm a Molahonkey virgin."

This time Rachel didn't hide the look of surprise. "You called me Rachel."

"You've seen me in my bra. At some point, we should be on a first name basis."

Rachel blushed and looked away, suddenly hyperaware that she was still holding Quinn's hand. To comfort her, right?

Quinn lightly squeezed Rachel's hand again to bring her attention back to her. "Will you sing it for me?"

Rachel, at absolutely no point in her life, had ever thought Quinn Fabray would ask her that question.

She cleared her throat, looking down at their hands, before looking back up at Quinn. Quinn's look was expectant, but Rachel could tell the blonde was hopefully. She gave a small smile before holding her chin up high and opening her mouth.

"I wililililished I lilililived in a molalalahonkey land, the lalalaland where Ililili was bolololorn. So Ililili could-"

Rachel's song was interrupted by Quinn, who had been trying so hard to keep it inside, letting out a full blown laugh from deep in her belly. Rachel shook her head at Quinn, but felt her heart swell at the sound of Quinn's melodic laughter. It seemed to go on for a lot longer than Rachel expected.

"You're insane, Berry. Your whole family is insane."

Rachel released Quinn's hand. "I think what you mean to say is, 'thank you, Rachel, for attempting to entertain me.'"

Quinn returned her hand to her own body, and slid it back underneath the white comforter. Her laughter died down. "Okay, Berry, tell me something else. Something that doesn't involve singing."

Rachel pressed a mock-offended hand to her chest. Singing _was her life._

Quinn chuckled. " _Please._ "

There was that word again. Rachel made a mental note to hold Quinn's politeness in this moment over her head until the end of time.

"What would you like me to tell you?" Rachel asked.

"Anything," Quinn answered.

"Well…" Rachel started, looking at the ceiling to think of something. She nodded when she found it and crossed her legs, looking back to Quinn. "When I was little, my daddy bought me a pair of glittery boots for my birthday, and I absolutely refused to take them off for two months." She looked at Quinn to make sure she wasn't about to tease her before continuing. "I wore them to bed, in the bath, for the rest of the winter."

Quinn's smile was fond, and Rachel faltered slightly.

Rachel tucked a hair behind her ear, but spoke with an added enthusiasm. "My favorite outfit included those glittery red boots and my bumblebee tights."

"Bumblebee tights." Quinn was amused.

Rachel spoke with pride. "With black and yellow stripes."

Quinn shook her head with a smile. "Oh, dear God."

Rachel's giggle was infectious. "I just really liked having stripy legs."

Quinn's eyes twinkled with an emotion that Rachel still couldn't identify. "So what happened to these gorgeous boots and stripy tights?"

Rachel's cheeks were burning, and she resisted the urge to fan them. Her voice was a solemn sentimental as she spoke. "Ugh, I outgrew them. It broke my heart." Rachel's face took on a glossy far away look. "And they don't make those tights anymore. Not for grown women anyway."

"Strange, that." Quinn's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Rachel folded her hand across her lap. "Oh, you can mock. Didn't you ever love anything that much?"

There was a short pause before Quinn's reply. "Yes. Yes I did."

Rachel smiled at her, and fought against every fiber in her being not to prod.

She abruptly stood and reached for the thermometer. "Is there anything else I can get you tonight?"

Quinn's smile became more muted. "No, I'm alright. I think I'll try to rest now."

"That seems best," Rachel replied.

Rachel took Quinn's temperature one last time, relieved that the thermometer read 100.2. She found herself surprisingly sad that her conversation with Quinn was over. If only Rachel from a month ago could see her now.

Quinn fell into a deep slumber pretty quickly, and Rachel tried not to feel sad about the suddenly silent annex. The brunette curled up in the armchair, with the throw from the living room sofa wrapped around her. She whispered a soft "goodnight" to the blonde before closing her eyes and letting sleep take over.

If she had stayed awake for another moment, she wouldn't have missed a newfound look thrown her way from the blonde who resented her existence a few weeks before.

* * *

A/N: Quinn your gay is showing.

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